


Twist of Fate

by FireflySummerwynd



Category: Mr. Big (US Band), Richie Kotzen - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Heavy Metal, hard rock, pop rock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25110265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflySummerwynd/pseuds/FireflySummerwynd
Summary: Life in the Music industry hasn't ever been easy for Richie Kotzen, especially as a full-fledged member of a band. Even after parting ways with theGlam, Slam, Kings of Noisein November of 1993, things haven't been easy for him–if anything, they've only gotten harder in various ways.But despite his better judgment, Richie decided on joining the supergroup Mr. Big due to his friendship with their bassist, Billy Sheehan, when their original guitarist decided to cash in his chips in 1996. Ever since then, it's been just as wild a ride as his Time in Poison was, just in different ways–and he doesn't realize that ride's about to get even wilder when he meets a young woman who hates society so much, she'd rather live in a remote Cave on Santa Catalina Island.
Relationships: Richie Kotzen/Lyrica Cascade





	1. One

_September, 2001_

_Los Angeles, California_

Settled with his most recent band mates–the three remaining members of supergroup Mr. Big–thirty-one-Year-old Richie Kotzen heaved a frustrated sigh. It’d been almost ten long, grueling Years since he’d joined forces with the glam Metal superstars known as the _Glam, Slam, Kings of Noise,_ Poison. It’d been going on seven Years since he’d been fired on the grounds of having an affair with the then- _fiancé_ of Poison’s drummer, Rikki Rockett, said woman having become his own ex-wife. While this last decade of his Life’d been one of the hardest, it’d also paved the way for some of the greatest things he’d experienced–such as being the proud daddy of a beautiful lil girl.

But as he’d known before ever joining Poison back in late-1991, the good and the bad came side-by-side, no matter what one tried to do. Sure, he’d gotten what he’d thought was the Love of his Life for a few short Years, but at what cost to him on a personal level? He’d wound up fired from one of the biggest bands on the Planet instead of just being able to trudge on till he decided to quit on his own. And that marriage’d Ended in divorce just three Years ago, leaving him a busy single father with full custody and an equally full plate.

Maybe being the second lead guitarist of Mr. Big, as per their original lineup according to who’d been featured on their debut album, wasn’t the worst thing that’d ever happened to him. But on the flip-side, he definitely couldn’t say it was one of the easiest–after all, he’d incredibly big shoesta fill once again. Then again, filling those big shoes wasn’t the hard part–getting along with his band mates and keeping the band alive was.

That was exactly why he, front man Eric Martin, bassist Billy Sheehan–who was also one of his closest friends–and drummer Pat Torpey were auditioning backing vocalists for their upcoming tour. Slated to kick off in January of the following Year, they’d only a few short monthsta find backing vocalists that could bring a whole new dynamic to the songs on the album that was just released in the UK last month and slated to be released in the US and the rest of Europe a few Days from now. But that was where the trouble started–nobody could seem to agree on who’d the best cross between himself and the front man when it came to vocalist.

“Ugh, I’m just about ready to call it quits,” Pat grumbled, rubbing his temples. “It doesn’t seem like we’re _ever_ gonna find the kinda person we need.”

“Ditto,” Eric groused as he shifted in his seat. “I’m ready to get outta here, too–my ass went numb Ages ago, and I feel like my ears’re about to start pouring blood.”

_“You’re_ feeling that way?” their bassist laughed, a bit of a bitter note to his voice. “God, if that’s the case, _my_ ears stopped pouring blood ’cuz I’ve none left in my body _to_ pour!”

“Guys, c’mon,” Richie sighed. “We’ve one more audition for today, then we can leave before we lose our minds.”

“That’s _if_ they ever show up,” the drummer retorted. “’Cuz they were supposed to be here half an hour ago, and I’ve yet to see anyone else.”

He simply shot him one of those bemused looks that was hard to read, which he’d been famous for even before joining Poison.

“Well, it’s true!” Pat said, throwing his hands up.

“He’s kinda got a point, Rich,” the front man agreed. “I say we give them another half-hour to show up, then I’m leaving.”

“Same here,” Billy agreed with a nod. “Stay past then, if ya wanna, even though August’s waiting on ya.”

“Hey, don’t be dragging Auggie into this!” he snapped. “I know she’s waiting on me at home, but there’s no need to throw that in my face when I want this tour to go on and work out just as much as you!”

The virtuoso–who’d been the baby of both the biggest bands he’d ever been in–hated it when any of his band mates dragged his daughter into their professional Life. Now he knew all too well how former band mate Bobby Dall’d felt when folks’d drag his son into the business aspect when all he wanted was for the boy to be able to live a peaceful Life. He wanted the same for his four-Year-old daughter, and while he’d love to be able to tell his former band mate he got that mentality now, he knew he wouldn’t get the chance. None of the other band had breathed a word to him since the Night he was fired, and he didn’t dare try to contact them now.

Shoving those Thoughts aside, Richie rose just long enough to stretch and move around a bit, not about to admit that his own ass was starting to go numb. Not only that, but his typical goofball side was starting to get buried under some serious Anxiety, which certainly wasn’t helping his mood. Then again, neither was being horny due to a lack of action since his divorce, as well as starting to get hungry after a long Day.

His attention was quickly caught by a _bang!_ from behind them that started even his band mates, who generally weren’t any easier to startle than he was, himself. All of them were surprised to see a young woman that’d to be closeta a foot shorter than all of them veritably running down the aisle of the auditorium they were gathered in for these auditions. Judging by first glance, she was definitely on the outta-shape side, but she was still and incredibly beautiful woman, all the same. He wouldn’t necessarily say she was _his type_ –hell, he honestly didn’t know if he even _had_ a type, never mind what kinda woman’d be the living embodiment of that. But he certainly wouldn’t deny being attracted to her, were any of the othersta outright ask him if he was or not.

What made his brow furrow as much as those of his band mates was that she seemed incredibly breathless as she moved in front of the mic set up for today’s auditions. Even Eric winced slightly, and he was sure he was thinking the same thing–that there was no way this girl was gonna be able to keep up with them. She was simply too unfit, if her panting was anything to judge by, which was gonna outshine any vocal abilities she possessed, no matter how good she was.

“Sorry I’m late,” she panted, her spine somehow straight even though it was obvious she wanted to double over and brace her hands on her knees. “Damn bus was running late.”

“Um, hon, ya sure you’re in the right place?” Pat asked.

“I’m pretty sure I’m looking at Mr. Big,” the young woman retorted, her lips curving in a frown.

“Well, all but our original guitarist,” Billy chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah–I know that Paulie decided to leave the band,” she said. “Might not be as big on y’all as some other bands, but I’m no idiot.”

“Never saidja were,” the front man told her with a chuckle of his own. “Now, outta shape and prolly unable to keep up with us…”

“Don’t let whether I’m outta shape or not fool ya.” She looked like she was fighting a glare as she stared him down with eyes just as Dark as his. “You’d be surprised at my abilities.”

“Hon, you’ve gotta be able to sing and run around a stage at the same Time,” the bassist said, sounding concerned. “And while I can’t and won’t speak for the others, I don’t think ya can manage that.”

Richie’s eyes widened when he saw her throat work like she was swallowing a sob, her eyes suddenly glittering more. “Guys, maybe we oughta see what she can do,” he said gently. “We’ve a few monthsta work on building up her Stamina, if she fits the bill, after all.”

“Richie, ya know it’ll take more than a few monthsta do that,” Eric told him. “She’s gotta be able to keep up with me, and that kinda thing doesn’t happen overnight.”

Before he could even try to argue on the young woman’s behalf again, Billy and their drummer agreed with him and vetoed her even auditioning. Part of him almost felt heartbroken as much as he was sure _she_ felt, and he couldn’t Begin to explain why he felt that sudden Emotional shift. Maybe it was ’cuz–as musical as her conversational voice already sounded, for being so deep compared to most women–he’d been looking forward to hearing her sing once she caught her breath.

The young woman squared her shoulders, even as she ducked her head in a classic _I-wanna-hide-from-the-World_ move. But that didn’t stop him from catching sight of the tear that slipped down her cheek, which she was obviously trying to keep them from seeing. He got the feeling that she was an incredibly strong woman, that she’d high Hopes for her audition today–and that those Hopes’d just been irrevocably dashed.

All of them were surprised when she raised her head again after reached up to make it seem like she was just scratching an itchy spot on her jaw. She took a deep breath as she shot a dirty look at the three original members, then turned to head right back up that aisle she’d previously run down. It almost seemed as though she Intended to chew them out about something, then thought better of it and decided to just leave. But none of them coulda been more wrong than what they were as she veritably speed-walked through the auditorium, notes pouring outta her mouth in a way they shouldn’t have been for her fitness level and quick movements.

_“Just take my heart when you go_ – _I don’t have the need for it anymore… I’ll always love you, but you’re too hard to hold_ – _just take my heart when you go…”_

By the Time she rounded out the chorusta one of the band’s biggest hits– _Just Take My Heart_ from their 1991 sophomore album, _Lean Into It_ –she’d reached the doorsta the auditorium. They were all startled by just how much like Eric she’d sounded, barely able to tell the difference between those few lyrics and the original studio recording. Not only that, but the haunting level of Emotion she’d thrown into that lil bit as she essentially threw their own song back in their faces–even said front man hadn’t been able to achieve that a decade or so ago. And that was the shocking thing, considering he’d written that song due to the divorce he was going through from his own ex-wife at the Time.

“Hey, wait a minute!” It was Richie that got himself together quick enough to give chase as she disappeared.

The young woman either didn’t hear him, or she was simply ignoring him as she continued outside, the rest of his band mates jumping up to chase after him. He paid no attention to them yelling at him to come back, that even if she _was_ a talented vocalist, he didn’t know a thing about this girl. She could be the biggest source of trouble he’d ever met, and he could very well be about to walk–or more aptly, run–into some kinda trap.

Ignoring his band mates, the virtuoso continued chasing after the young woman, wanting to at least find out her name and where he could find her. Even though it was pretty obvious that things weren’t gonna work out with her becoming one of their touring vocalists, he felt an odd pull to her that he couldn’t explain. He couldn’t simply let her walk away without finding out those couple things, ’cuz he’d the feeling that he’d live to regret it, if he did. All Thoughts of even his daughter fled his mind as he tried to catch up with her, Cursing colorfully as he was forced to pull out his keys when she jumped on the bus at the nearby bus stop.

Richie was quick to jump into his car, even as the rest of Mr. Big burst out the auditorium doors behind him, and fire up the ’92 Firebird he loved. Even as they yelled at him to get back there instead of doing something stupid, he threw his mechanical Pride and Joy into gear and took off, his eyes following the bus that was already a good distance ahead of him. He needed to close the distance between himself and the much bigger machine, but not get into a wreck as he did so, and quickly.

Surprised to see the young woman get off, only to step onto a second bus, he managed to start tailing it without causing or otherwise getting into a wreck. However, he was surprised when she repeated that action a couple more Times, which caused him to find himself down in Long Beach. What surprised him even more, though, was when continuing to follow her led him to the ferry that’d take them from right next door to the Queen Mary out to Santa Catalina Island. More specifically, that ferry ran to the small port Town of Avalon, which lay on the Northern Coast, but Southeastern End of the island. What on Earth could she be heading to that particular area for, if she’d made her way into Los Angeles for an audition? He didn’t have the slightest clue, but something told him that he _needed_ to find out, which was why he parked his car near the ferry port.

Richie knew he coulda take his beloved Firebird with him, but there was a reason why he didn’t wanna actually do so. As he boarded the ferry and tried to find her in the small crowd headed to Santa Catalina Island, he told himself that he simply didn’t want her to know he was tailing her. But another reason why he choseta leave his car on the mainland wasta throw off his band mates, if they’d been tailing and managed to catch up with _him_. He somehow got the feeling that this young woman wasn’t gonna be very receptive to talking to any of the others, given the way they’d shot her down before she could even audition. If he were to show up with them in tow, knowingly or unknowingly, he doubted she’d talk to him–assuming he could even find her again, that is.

Finding the young woman again in the crowd on the ferry proved to be a bit like finding a needle in a haystack. It took him the first twenty minutes of the hour-long trip to catch sight of her, and part of him wasn’t surprised to see that she’d gone out onto the deck of the ship. He also wasn’t surprised to see that she’d managed to find a spot where she could be completely alone, where she could look out over the Sea.

Watching her as he dodged and occasionally interacted with a handful of fans that recognized him from various Time periods in his career, the virtuoso couldn’t help the slight smile that crossed his face. As long as he kept an eye on her so he wouldn’t lose her, maybe he’d get a chanceta _really_ talk to her within the hour. He wasn’t gonna try to approach her on the ferry–his band mates’d a point in saying he didn’t know a thing about her, and therefore what she was capable of, after all. But even if he waited till they were on one of the Channel Islands that ran along the So Cal Coast, he’d high Hopes for when he caught up to her.


	2. Two

Twenty-four-Year-old Lyrica Cascade knew without a doubt that she was still being followed, even as she stared out over the Sea on the ferry ride back to Avalon. She’d purposely ignored the lone band member who’d tried to stand up for her, whom she’d fallen in Love with the style of after hearing his work on Poison’s fourth album, _Native Tongue_. It wasn’t ’cuz she was trying to be rude to him, or anything of the sort–she just didn’t want him and his band matesta see her cry. Not only that, but she somehow got the feeling that he’d give chase outta Curiosity, and part of her actually wanted him to do just that. Stopping to acknowledge his pleas woulda put an End to that _game,_ if it could be called that, before it even truly Began. For that reason, she’d continued on her way back to the ferry port, well aware of him following every bus she boarded.

As she felt the ferry slow for its approach to the port that was almost perfectly Centered between Avalon Bay and Lover’s Cove, she pushed herself away from the rail she’d been leaning against. She could still feel Richie’s eyes veritably boring holes into her back from wherever he’d stationed himself on the ferry, so she knew he was still watching her. No doubt that wasta keep her within sight so he could continue following her, which was fine by her as the ferry docked. He was about to get quite the surprise, if he _did_ continue following her, which made her grin slightly since her back was turned and he couldn’t see it.

Still, Lyrica didn’t let that bother her as she headed up the dock, quickly boarding one of the two buses about to head across the island to the other Town of Two Harbors. As much as she loved the view from Lover’s Cove, that side of the island was simply too developed for her liking. To that End, she’d made her way clean across it, eventually settling a good three miles outside the other small Town right on the Shore of a spot known as Strawberry Cove.

Hidden in the side of the Cliff due South of the Cove’s mouth was a Cave that was just big enough for the young woman’s liking. She was pretty certain that no one’d ever found it, and if they _had,_ those people were Centuries or even Millennia dead at this point. It was the perfect spot to call home that allowed her to live off-grid and undisturbed by the humanity she was so desperately trying to escape. However, getting to her lil Cave was the hard part–and no doubt to prove that she wasn’t really as unfit as she seemed, if he continued following her. After all, it was roughly three and a-half miles from the ferry port in Two Harborsta the mouth of said Cave as the Crow flies. That meant a roughly _eight_ and a-half-mile drive to the nearby Parsons Landing, provided she could talk one of the locals into giving her a ride, which she usually could. She wasn’t too sure if the musician following her’d be able to do the same or not, but she’d the feeling she’d find out.

An hour and a-half or so after walking off the ferry in Avalon, Lyrica was thanking the local man she often got rides from for his service. He’d been all too glad to take her up to Parsons Landing, which was where he always dropped her off whenever he made such a trip for her. It was the closest one could get to the mouth of her Cave–which even this local didn’t know the exact location of–without crossing Land on foot or entering the Water at the very edge of the very edge of the Beach. Considering she didn’t particularly feel like getting any wetter than she had to at the moment, she opted for crossing Land once the local’d left.

Hearing another car door slam and a male voice calling out the person’s thanks as she got to the top of the Ridge that hid her home brought a smile to the young woman’s face. Now it was more than a lil obvious that Richie’d, indeed followed her from the Time she left the auditorium, and was still Intent on catching up with her. That didn’t mean she stopped to wait for him, nor slowed her pace as she crossed over the crest of that Ridge, leaving him to scramble, if he’d any Hope of catching her. But she knew he wouldn’t be expecting what he found once he more or less caught up and caught sight of where she’d gone since he was no doubt to lose sight of her for a few moments.

“Shit!” Richie hissed as he jogged, losing sight of his target as she disappeared into a small stand of Trees.

He’d managed to keep up with her ever since he’d chased her out the doors of the auditorium he and his band mates’d used for today’s auditions. Even the couple Times he’d to really pay attention between bus changes, or even while they were on the ferry, he hadn’t completely lost sight of her like this. Now, he was really unsure of what he’d gotten himself into by following her, considering he was essentially in the middle of nowhere with no one to help him. This young woman was the only living thing besides a Wild Animal around for miles, which wasn’t good for a few different reasons.

Given the amount of Time that’d passed ever since leaving the auditorium, the Sun was already Beginning to sink below the horizon for the Day. That meant it was gonna be Dark soon, and he’d be left to either hunker down under a Tree for the Night, or hope he could find his way back to civilization in the Dark. He wasn’t much of an outdoorsman unless it was a planned camping trip, and he was gonna be in trouble with a quickness.

The ground suddenly dropping off into the side of a Cliff mere feet into that stand of Trees startled him, and he couldn’t help a gasp as he stopped short. Now he really didn’t know what he was supposed to do as he cautiously approached that edge, unsure of whether the ground would give way under his feet or not. Peeking over said edge to see what appeared to be a fairly-worn foot path down what’d to be a hundred-plus-foot drop was quite the surprise, but not as much as catching sight of the young woman again.

“All right, Richie–man up,” the virtuoso grumbled under his breath. “She’s a lot less fit that you, and if _she_ can do it without breaking her neck…”

Keeping his eyes locked on the retreating figure so he wouldn’t look down to the foot of the Cliff and allow it to scare him into not continuing, he took a deep breath. He was careful about dropping himself over the edge of the Cliff to the Beginning of the foot path, more than a lil glad the drop wasn’t that high. Without repelling or any other safety gear, he definitely didn’t wanna lose his footing–that kinda fall’d no doubt kill him. If he were to die here, nobody but the young woman’d find him, and if she didn’t feel Gracious enough to have him taken back to the mainland–well, Auggie’d be left forever wondering what’d happened to Daddy and why he hadn’t come back home to her.

“Fuck, this girl’s crazy,” Richie panted, the dying Light of the Sun just barely getting him to the Cliff’s foot safely. “Then again, what am I, considering I’ve been following her into this mess for upwards of two hours?”

Looking to his right as he heard a handful of splashes, he managed to catch sight of her retreating figure again and was surprised. There was a yawning hole in the side of the Cliff that could only be the mouth of a Cave all of forty or fifty feet from the Water’s edge. From the looks of things as he watched her disappear into that yawning hole–which was decidedly creepy, as far as he was concerned–this was where she called home. His suspicion was confirmed when a flare of Light penetrated the Darkness within that Cave, which gave him a bit of a beacon to focus on. As long as that Light didn’t snuff out just as quickly, at least he’d something to help him find his way through the Water and up to what was essentially her front door. He certainly hoped such a thing didn’t happen as he rubbed his arms, now regretting having left his jacket in his car on the mainland. It’d already been chilly, but now it was getting even colder than it’d already been as the Sun continued to set.

“I’m both surprised and not thatcha followed me.”

Startled by suddenly hearing the young woman speak as he approached that Cave opening a couple minutes later, Richie stopped dead in his tracks.

“Well, get in here,” she said as she appeared again. “Bad enough that we’ll have some serious explaining to do in the Morn–you’re not going home in a body bag on my watch, Mr. Kotzen.”

“Uh, I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” the virtuoso responded, sounding a bit sheepish as he made his way toward her.

“Better get ready for at least partial nudity,” she chuckled, quickly grabbing his hand to better guide him once he was within arm’s reach.

“Not without knowing your name,” he retorted, unable to suppress a shiver, even as he let her lead him. “Not that I came here with any perverted Intent, that is.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was more so outta Curiosity than any desire to get laid.” The young woman snickered as she all but dragged him over to the Fire she’d lit, which was the source of the Light he’d seen. “But my name’s Lyrica, since you’re apparently the only member of Mr. Big who gives enough of a shit to ask about it.”

“Lyrica, huh?” Richie chuckled, settling in one of the camp chairs next to said Fire. “I guess I don’t need to tell ya mine outta anything but good manners, considering ya know my surname.”

“Well, not unless ya prefer something other than _Richie,”_ she told him as he kicked off his sodden boots.

“Nah, Richie’s fine,” the virtuoso assured her, reaching down to pull off his soaked socks, too. “But I gotta ask–why the hell’dja decide to live _here,_ of all places?”

“Got sick of humanity after my family ostracized and abandoned me,” Lyrica answered, snatching his socks away so she could hang them up to dry. “When I left North Carolina a few Years ago, I just took off–no particular destination in mind, no idea how I was gonna get there.”

“So, ya basically just Gypsy’d your way out here?” he asked, riveted on her story.

“Pretty much,” the young woman answered with a nod. “When I got out to California, I decided I wanted to live near the Coast–but not in a house, or anything of the sort since I didn’t wanna have to worry about rent or anything of the like.”

Richie couldn’t help cocking a brow as she turned back around to face him.

“I’m unemployed with no job prospects in sight, okay?” She seemed like she didn’t wanna talk about it. “Everything I’ve tried–even auditioning today–hasn’t panned out in the slightest, so off-grid away from humanity’s apparently the way to go for me.”

The virtuoso couldn’t help a wince, both at her explanation and her sharp tone. “I wasn’t gonna ask, but I appreciate thatcha told me, all the same.”

“Somehow, I get the feeling that’s a lie,” Lyrica snorted. “But that’s neither here, nor there right now–I’m sure you’re not only cold, but starving.”

“Well, yeah,” he chuckled, managing to scoot closer to the Fire so he could warm up without setting himself ablaze. “It’s Autumn, the Sun’s pretty much set, and it’s been quite a while since our lunch break.”

Humming, the young woman moved to dig through a cache of food he hadn’t noticed yet, but was relieved to see more than he could put into words. When he said it’d been quite a while since lunch, he wasn’t kidding–he and the band had taken said break around eleven that Morn. Considering that it’d to be easily six in the Eve or later and he’d done all that hiking after getting dropped off at Parsons Landing, it was no Wonder he was hungry enough to eat a Horse right about now.

Almost quicker than Richie could wrap his mind around–especially considering that they were off-grid and they’d to kill off what she made or leave it for the local Wildlife–she’d whipped up a batch of sketti for them. She apologized if it wasn’t his normal fare, but she tried not to keep very much on hand–really just enough to get her through a week at a Time. Not only that, but she’d to be conscientious of _what_ she kept on hand since it wasn’t exactly like she’d much of a preservation method. Even though she’d managed to Create a sorta off-grid refrigerator, not much’d survive for long out here in a Cave with no Modern conveniences. Besides, there were only so many places within and around this Cave that she could hide such a cache for Future use.

The virtuoso was all too grateful to even _get_ food right now, so he didn’t exactly care what he’d been handed as he took the bowl extended to him. He said that he could understand not keeping much on hand–after all, she wouldn’t wanna have the local Wildlife essentially breaking in ’cuz they smelled her cache. Letting such a thing happen’d no doubt be a Death sentence without some way of protecting herself–and possibly turning that Wildlife into food. He wasn’t entirely certain that she’d such means within this Cave, and if she did–well, he didn’t wanna give her reason to think she needed to turn said means on him.

“Well, I’ll admit that now, I’m even more curious than I was before,” he said once they’d finished their food in companionable Silence. “Why don’tcha tell me more about yourself since I’m kinda stuck out here for the Night?”

“Depends on whatcha wanna know,” Lyrica told him, even as she took their dishes toward the back of the Cave.

Pushing himself up to follow her, he saw a small Stream that cut through the bowels of the Cave, which explained how she managed to get freshwater for herself. _“Mmm,_ why don’t we start with how ya wound up getting into singing?”

“Eh, I’ve pretty much always been a musical person,” the young woman said, even as she settled at the edge of the Stream to wash said dishes. “Never really could get the hang of playing any physical instruments–if ya don’t count flute and picc in middle and high school, that is–so I let my voice become such.”

“And become an instrument, it most certainly did,” Richie chuckled, settling next to her. “I’ve heard the studio version of _Just Take My Heart,_ and I gotta say, ya blew Eric outta the Water today.”

“Believe it or not, _he’s_ the one who unknowingly taught me even more about breath Control,” she told him, a smirk quirking the corner of her mouth he could actually see.

“That so, huh?” the virtuoso asked.

“Kinda _had_ to learn it for the decade or so that I played flute and picc,” Lyrica answered. “But it’s employed differently for playing those instruments as compared to singing.”

He simply listened as the young woman explained that in playing the instruments she actually could, one really just had to keep up a steady stream of Air. It was kinda like maintaining a string’s vibration on a guitar so the note rang out, rather than getting cut off prematurely. But when it came to singing, one’d to maintain that vibration in their vocal cords, which could sometimes make them run outta Air prematurely and force them to take another breath.

Richie couldn’t say he didn’t know what she meant when it came to vocals, ’cuz he damn well did, whether he liked the Sound of his own voice or not. After all, he’d not only done works where he was singing backing–like he’d done with both Poison and Mr. Big alike–but ones where he was singing lead, too. He didn’t quite have the same kinda breath Control that Eric did, but he was still pretty damn good at it, if he did say so, himself.

Once she’d finished washing their dishes and left them on the Stream’s rocky bank to dry, Lyrica pushed herself up so she could rummage through some of what she’d hidden. It wasn’t long before she pulled out a small, rectangular case, and he somehow got the feeling that it was the technical home of her flute. He wasn’t disappointed in that assumption when opening the case revealed three Metal tubes that–once fit together properly–made up the instrument in question. She couldn’t help a smirk that quickly disappeared as she raised the instrument to her face, her fingers flying as she ran various scales.

“Got any actual pieces ya know?” he asked.

“Transposed Poison’s _Something to Believe In_ a while back,” the young woman answered. “Well, I amend that to the piano riff since I was looking to seriously challenge myself.”

“That’d definitely be a challenge,” Richie laughed. “I mean, you’re trying to combine notes all along a grand staff so they can be played on something that functions in treble clef.”

“Well, flutes can actually go down decently low, for a treble-clef instrument,” she chuckled. “After that, ya gotta start getting into shit like bass flute to go any lower.”

The virtuoso couldn’t help but be intrigued, even as she pulled something else outta her lil hiding spot.

“This is actually a piece I managed to find a copy of after I graduated,” Lyrica explained. “I’d to learn it for concert band, then lost the copy of the sheet Music my band director gave me till I managed to get out West.”

“Well, let’s hear it, ’cuz now you’ve my Curiosity piqued,” he told her.

Nodding, the young woman propped the sheet of paper up on one of the nearby rocks, which acted as a sorta stand so she could see it. She warned him that she wasn’t paying attention to the first twelve measures of rest, considering they didn’t have any of the instruments that were supposed to play during that Time. He simply Returned the nod as he settled on her left to watch and listen, which gave her more than enough room for the flute to extend to her right.

Richie couldn’t help how his eyes widened as she started at the Beginning of the thirteenth measure with a short lick that was marked for a soprano saxophone. It was already a beautiful-sounding piece, if that short lick was anything to judge by, even if it already sounded kinda haunting. Watching her fingers move almost as quick as his own tended to do was just as mesmerizing as the Music she played, too.

By the Time she reached the fifty-first measure–which was where there was a very obvious key Change–he couldn’t help but admire her breath Control. Not only that, but he thought this piece was definitely fitting of their current setting, as Majestic and haunting as it sounded to him. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as she lowered her right hand onto her leg, revealing a trick he didn’t think was possible. Considering how she’d played those same final two notes earlier in the piece, he’d honestly thought she needed both hands for them, but she quickly proved him wrong.

“Absolutely beautiful,” the virtuoso said once she lowered her instrument.

“Sounds just as good on guitar, too, if ya ask me,” Lyrica chuckled, her face turning a Light shade of pink as if she were embarrassed by the compliment.

“Really?” he asked, his brows rising in surprise.

The young woman didn’t answer, but rather roseta grab something else, and he was even more surprised when she Returned with an acoustic guitar. “Why don’tcha try it for yourself, if ya can actually read sheet Music.”

“Eh, it’s been a while since I did, but it’s kinda like riding a bike,” Richie chuckled, gingerly taking the guitar. “Once ya learn something like that, ya never forget without a helluva crack to the head.”

“Kinda like once ya learn how to play an instrument, ya never truly forget–ya just get rusty, if ya don’t play almost constantly,” she agreed with a laugh.

Settling the guitar in his lap, he focused his attention on the sheet of paper still propped up in front of him, his hands automatically settling in their proper positions. Without even looking down at either the fret board or body, he started plucking experimentally, trying to play the same rhythm he’d just heard. It was certainly a bit of a challenge, but that was one thing he loved almost as much as he loved his daughter–a good challenge always served to light a spark within him.

By the Time he’d reached the End of the piece, the virtuoso couldn’t deny that she’d a point when she’d said it sounded just as good on guitar as it did on flute. He supposed that if it’d sounded bad in the slightest, it was ’cuz he wasn’t as familiar with the piece as Lyrica was and prolly hadn’t played it quite right. A lil bit of practice, were he to ever get his hands on a copy of the sheet Music’d solve that pretty quickly, though.

It wasn’t more than another hour after the young woman’d put her instruments away and finally convinced him to strip for a bath in the stream that they were settling down for bed. Richie wouldn’t lie and try to say that he’d particularly enjoyed that cold bath, but it certainly beat going to bed coated in dried sweat after his hike through the brush. At least the woman with whom he was forced to hunker down for the Night didn’t seem to be averseta cuddling with him, despite their being perfect strangers. Maybe it was just for the purpose of sharing body heat, even though she built up the Fire before they’d tucked into the bed she’d made outta plywood and a metric fuck-ton of foam padding, but it was still a Comfort to him, all the same.

The last thing he truly remembered before sleep finally overcame him was thinking about how nice it felt to have a woman in bed with him again. While it was a far cry different than post-sex cuddling–especially with a woman he’d say he loved–Lyrica’s presence wasn’t just ardor-stoking. It was Calming and Soothing, just like the Sound of the gently-breaking Waves just outside the Cave’s mouth, which made him smile slightly. He just hoped as he fell into the depths of slumber that this wouldn’t be the last Time he saw her, even if he’d to make the trek out to this Cave again–just far better prepared than he’d been this Time.


	3. Three

Early the next Morn, Lyrica woke with the Sun like she usually did, her eyes slowly fluttering open as she registered how much warmer she felt for once. A soft grunt from behind her when she squirmed–which made her aware of the hard ridge pressed firmly against her rear–brought back memories of the Day previous. It didn’t take her long to remember how she’d headed to the mainland to audition as one of Mr. Big’s backing vocalists for their next tour, as well as everything that’d happened afterward.

She couldn’t help a soft chuckle as she managed to fight Richie’s almost-iron grip enough to roll over so she was facing him. Even as she gently draped her leg over him–which opened her up so that the slightest movement on either of their parts’d allow him to push in–she couldn’t help the smile on her face. His brows were slightly furrowed as he felt her movements, but were quick to rise back into a more relaxed position once she settled. Part of her almost didn’t wanna wake him up, as good as he seemed to be sleeping under the circumstances, but she knew she had to. After all, he’d his young daughter to Return to eventually, whether he cared about Returning to his current band or not–she couldn’t let him stay here forever.

Keeping her touch gentle, the young woman brushed his hair back so she could tuck it behind his ear, thus revealing the left half of his face. He let out a soft groan as that touch drew him from the depths of sleep, his eyes starting to flutter under their lids as he fought waking up. But it wasn’t long before those lids parted and fluttered open, revealing irises as blue as the Sea outside what was essentially her front door.

She couldn’t help another soft chuckle as those eyes locked onto her face, slowly focusing as their owner blinked a few Times. Lyrica’d already thought this man was attractive when he was wide awake, but there was something about seeing him just after waking up that she thought was cute. Maybe it was the sleepy, Dream-filled look in his eyes, or maybe it was the somewhat boyish smile he gave her as everything started coming back to him, too. While she’d prolly never be able to find out, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy what lil bit of pleasure she could derive from it while it lasted.

“Wakey, wakey, sleepy-head,” the young woman chuckled.

 _“Mmm,_ and if I don’t wanna?” Richie asked, his voice a bit more gravelly from being more asleep than not.

“Ya kinda have to,” she told him. “’Cuz like it or not, we need to getcha back to the mainland.”

“I’m comfy right here,” the virtuoso retorted, tightening his grip on her waist and somehow pulling her even closer to his nude form.

“Hey, I’d be more than glad to letcha stay here–if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve a daughter waiting on ya back home,” Lyrica said.

“Ugh, why must I’ve to adult?” he chuckled.

“You’re the one who helped make her, not me,” the young woman laughed as she gently rubbed his back.

“Oh, ya mean like my wayward man-meat’s demanding I help make another lil booger right about now?” Richie asked. He didn’t even try to bite back a mischievous grin as he pressed his hips–and therefore his Morn Wood–against her.

“Not _even_ gonna happen, big boy,” she told him. “I make it a point not to sleep with anyone I dunno very well, especially if there’s no rubbers in sight.”

“Hey, can’t blame a man for trying,” the virtuoso laughed, finally letting her sit up. “’Cuz I’m not gonna deny that you’re attractive.”

“Ya get an _A_ for effort, then,” Lyrica said with a grin. “Although, for the record, I’m not denying that you’re just as attractive.”

“Ya just want something _more_ than sex,” he mused, sitting up as she rose from the makeshift bed.

“What can I say? I tend to act more like a guy, but I’ve that Emotional side women’re known for, too,” the young woman told him as she headed outside.

Richie couldn’t help but enjoy the view he was afforded as she stepped out into the meager Sunlight, even as he pondered her words. When he thought about it deeply, he couldn’t really say he was any different at his core–sex was fun and all, but it just wasn’t as appealing when there wasn’t much of a connection with any given partner. He’d found that out the hard way before and after meeting his ex-wife, and admitting that–if only in his own head–made him reevaluate what he was _really_ looking for when it came to Romance.

It wasn’t long before she Returned from whatever she’d been doing, which he assumed amounted to a Morn piss since they’d just woken up. As she headed over to get dressed, the virtuoso decided he might as well take his turn, although he wasn’t quite sure how he was gonna do that. He could easily _play fireman,_ as it were, if all he’d to do was piss–but he didn’t _just_ have to piss this Morn as he headed outside.

Lyrica was quick to call out from the mouth of the Cave where he’d essentially find a bathroom, rudimentary though it was. She hadn’t bothered erecting an outhouse or anything, but she tended to use the same general area for relieving herself. Hidden in a tote to protect it from the Elements were supplies such as toilet paper since she wasn’t so gross as to walk around without wiping her ass. Calling his thanks over his shoulder, he wasn’t quite sure if she’d innately sensed his plight, or if she was just letting him know where to find such things on the off-chance that he’d need them. Either way, at least he wouldn’t have to go back in and pollute the source of her drinking Water to avoid having an itchy ass till he got back to the mainland.

By the Time he reentered the Cave, the young woman’d managed to cook up a relatively filling breakfast for the two of them. Even as he wondered just where she’d hidden the Eggs she’d scrambled so they wouldn’t spoil, he started grabbing his now-dry clothes. Part of him was too focused on getting his clothes on, ’cuz he simply felt uncomfortable with being nude around her, if they weren’t headed to bed for any reason. No doubt a big part of his discomfort with such a thing was the fact that she was already dressed, so he felt a lil silly without his own clothes.

“I wouldn’t put your jeans on just yet,” she warned him.

“Any particular reason why not?” Richie asked as he pulled his boxers up.

“Well, you’re gonna have to go through the Water again to get back to the path up the Cliff,” the young woman chuckled. “If ya can roll the cuffs up enough to keep ’em dry and wanna carry your boots, that’s up to you.”

“What–not gonna walk me back to civilization?” he laughed.

“I never said that,” Lyrica retorted with a laugh of her own. “I’m just smart enough to take my jeans off before I make the trek up to the top of the Cliff most Times.”

“I’m guessing ya knew I was behindja last Night since ya didn’t then,” the virtuoso mused, joining her so they could eat.

“I could feel your eyes boring holes into my back from the Time ya chased me outta that auditorium,” she told him, a bit of an Impish grin splitting her face.

“Ya devious lil bitch, you,” Richie chuckled. “Letting me _think_ ya didn’t know ya were being tailed when ya damn well did.”

“So, I like to keep folks on their toes,” she said. “Bite me, andja might never get home to your daughter, ’cuz I might never letcha leave.”

“If I’m completely honest, only not getting to see Auggie again and let her know I’m all right stops me from saying I’d be cool with that,” the virtuoso admitted. “I could care less, if I ever touched a guitar aside from yours again–it’s peaceful out here, and I’ve needed that for a long Time.”

Lyrica couldn’t help a laugh as she told him that she imagined that much was true, just from all the drama and Mayhem that came from his Time spent in Poison, alone. Gods only knew _she’d_ wanna hide out somewhere like this idyllic lil Cove, its neighboring Beach never visited by more than a small group at a Time, if she’d been through half as much as he had. Then again, when one thought about it deeply, she kinda _had_ been through just as much due to the family she’d run away from, just in different ways.

Once they were both done eating, the dishes washed and her lil home restored to rights, the young woman grabbed what she considered her essentials. She wasn’t cruel enough to make him walk all the way back to even Two Harbors on his own, knowing that anything might happen to him from the Time he left the Cave. In fact, he might not even make it as far as Avalon, let alone back to the mainland, and she definitely didn’t wanna see that become a Reality. The one thing she hadn’t bothered getting into due to not knowing him very well was that her own father’d abandoned her as either a fetus, or as a newborn infant. Either way, living with the _what-ifs_ wasn’t something she’d Wish on anyone, especially a lil girl who’d gotten to meet her daddy.

At least a couple hours after starting the trek from the mouth of her Cave, Richie found himself heading back to his car with the young woman at his side. Not even during the hour-long ferry ride from the port in Avalon had he been able to convince her to come back with him and try auditioning as a backing vocalist again. She flat-out refused, saying that as far as she was concerned, the rest of the band had already made their decision and it wouldn’t do her any good.

Despite pleading with her and swearing he’d argue on her behalf based on what he’d learned overnight, Lyrica proved to be every bit as stubborn as he was. She said that as much fun as getting to go on tour with them’d no doubt be for her, she wasn’t gonna waste her Time on something that wasn’t gonna work out. Considering that she’d essentially started her own homestead, she’d plenty to do, so she’d be fine out on the island.

But it was seeing his car roped off in police tape, cruisers with their Lights flashing surrounding the vicinity, that caught both their attention as they walked up sidewalk toward where he’d parked alongside the Los Angeles River. Startled, the virtuoso grabbed her hand and took off at a jog, mindful enough to shorten his strides a bit so she could keep up. After all, she was nearly a foot shorter than him, so it was harder for her to keep up since a shorter overall height meant shorter legs, too. However, she proved to be able to keep up well enough, shortened strides on his part or no, and they covered the distance pretty quickly.

“What on Earth’s going on?” he asked the nearest cop, only the slightest bit breathless from having been jogging.

“Can’t tell ya details of an ongoing investigation, sir,” the cop answered.

“Considering this is _my_ car, the hell ya can’t,” Richie argued, pulling his keys outta his pocket.

“Wait, _you’re_ Richard Kotzen, Jr.?” This was asked by another man who appeared to be a detective, based on how he was dressed.

“Last Time I checked, yeah,” the virtuoso answered, ducking under the police tape once he’d fished up the right key.

All the cops watched, surprised when the passenger door actually unlocked once he’d slipped it in and turned it.

“Then we need to know your whereabouts last Night,” the detective said as he pulled his registration outta the glovebox.

“Impromptu camping trip, I guess ya could say,” he told him, even as he handed over the documentation he’d pulled out.

“Impromptu?” The cop he’d originally spoken to cast a skeptical look in his Direction as the detective took and read over his registration, then asked to check his license.

“Long story short, my band was holding auditions for backing vocalists for our upcoming tour yesterday,” the virtuoso sighed. “The last audition of the Day practically ran out in tears ’cuz she got shot down before she could ever truly audition.”

“So, like a gentleman, ya gave chaseta make sure she was all right.” The detective looked up as he handed his license and registration back to him.

Stowing said documents back in his glovebox and wallet, Richie closed his car door as his face turned a bit pink, considering the woman in question was within earshot. But he didn’t try to lie as he said that while that was part of it, there was a part of him that’d been Intent on trying to convince her to come back and audition, anywhore. Given what he’d heard as she veritably stormed outta the auditorium after being shot down, he’d thought she’d potential then, and he still did now. Unfortunately, he’d to chase her to Santa Catalina Island before he ever managed to completely catch up with her, which’d taken a couple hours.

“By the Time I finally managed to catch up–well, let’s just say I kinda got stuck, if I didn’t fancy breaking my neck,” he chuckled, a sheepish note entering his voice as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Why didn’tcha at least call one of your friends and let them know ya were all right?” the first cop asked curiously. “’Cuz we’re here due to them filing a missing person’s report when ya never Returned home to your daughter last Night.”

“Didn’t have a choice there any more than I’d one in coming back home,” the virtuoso answered.

“No Modern conveniences where he wound up,” Lyrica spoke up when the cop started to question him about that.

“And how would _you_ know, miss?” he asked, turning his attention to her.

“’Cuz he was with me, and I live in a Goddess-Blessed Cave,” the young woman retorted, taking a stubborn stance as she crossed her arms.

That seemed to bring the cops up short, Richie unable to help a chuckle as their jaws dropped. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

She merely rolled her eyes, but still reached into her back pocket when the detective demanded to see some ID. Handing it over, she said that she’d been yesterday’s final audition, but the one part of the story she amended was that she hadn’t known he’d been following her. Part of him wanted to argue that since he knew damn good and well she’d been aware, but figured that wasn’t exactly a good idea right now.

“So, instead of trying to send him back home, ya just let him spend the Night so he was safe?” the detective asked, handing her ID back to her.

“Better than trying to make him climb the side of a Cliff with no safety gear without so much as Moonlight to Light his path, don’tcha think?” Lyrica countered with a cocked brow.

“Okay, yeah–whether he stayed by his own volition or ya essentially held him hostage, prolly better that Mr. Kotzen spent the Night with ya,” he admitted with a chuckle. “Otherwise, like he said, he’d prolly have a broken neck right about now.”

“Yeah, guess I need to say thanks for making sure I survived the Night again,” said virtuoso laughed.

“Do it, and I’ll give ’em a reason to arrest me when I rip your nuts off right in front of ’em,” she warned him, her smirk belying any true malice.

“All right, all right–I won’t,” Richie laughed, holding up one hand in surrender as the other unconsciously lowered to cup himself protectively.

It wasn’t long before the cops were satisfied that he was unharmed beyond maybe a few scratches from brush that he’d been forced to follow her through. Seeing that he appeared to be well-rested and fed on top of that, they were inclined to believe that she’d simply ensured his well-being overnight, then done her part in getting him back home at the earliest available opportunity. Given that they didn’t really have any other questions for either of them, they decided to head back to the station so they could close their case and move on.

Now left alone with the young woman that intrigued him so, the virtuoso couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief. He knew he definitely needed to get home now, but there was a part of him that didn’t wanna leave her behind more than before. There was just something about her that Called to him–he’d almost compare it to the Gravity of a Planet pulling something like the Moon in to orbit around it.

“Ya know where and how to find me, Rich,” she said as he pulled her into his arms for a hug. “Just don’t come back without letting at least your band know where the hell you’re going–and shit to survive the Night with, if ya don’t quite make it to my Cave before Nightfall.”

“I know, I know,” Richie sighed, not wanting to let her go. “I can’t help that I just don’t wanna letcha go, knowing that you’re living off the Land like that.”

“Hey, I’m the one who made that choice,” the young woman said, pulling back enough to look at him.

“Yeah, ’cuz ya were forced into that or simply Ending your Life,” he argued gently.

“Regardless of why I made that choice, I’ve been surviving just fine for the last couple Years,” Lyrica chuckled. “I’m pretty sure that if I can make it that long in a Cave by myself, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna worry aboutcha all the same, now that I know,” he told her as she finally managed to escape his grip.

Assuring him that this wouldn’t be the last Time they saw each other, considering how determined he’d seemed to catch up with her the Day previous, the young woman started to walk backward. Even as she waved to him till he was pretty much a dot on the horizon, a motion he Returned till she was equally small to his own vision, he couldn’t help the overwhelming sadness that settled over him. Considering how long it’d been since he’d met a woman even half as intriguing, it felt like he’d finally found something good that was slipping through his fingers just as quickly.

Richie couldn’t help Cursing under his breath as he finally ripped open his driver’s door once he saw the barely-visible figure of the young woman heading to the ferry that’d take her back to Santa Catalina Island. He loved his daughter and the rest of his family, even cared about his friends, to be sure–but he Intended to make sure they saw each other again.

On the drive back to his house where August was no doubt waiting anxiously for a Return that may or may not happen, the virtuoso couldn’t help but plot out his next move. It might be a while before he actually got the chance, but he was _gonna_ go back to that island, to the Cave where he’d spent the Night previous. Maybe if he got to know her enough, he’d be able to convince Lyrica to come back to the mainland with him for good eventually. He couldn’t help the barking laugh he let out at that Thought, which made his Thoughts sound like he was plotting out how to convince a Mermaid to come ashore as his wife permanently. It’d no doubt sound crazy to just about anyone else, but he’d never exactly claimed to be completely sane, either.

That being said, he made his decision just as he turned into his neighborhood, and nothing was gonna Change his mind on the matter. At his first available opportunity, he was Intent on buying any camping gear he might need on another trip to the young woman’s Cave. Once that was done, he’d wait till he’d enough Time off to manage it, but he was going back to see her again, if she didn’t come back to the mainland first. But those Thoughts were quickly scattered as he pulled into his driveway, almost instantly recognizing his band mates’ cars where they were parked at the curb in front of his house.


	4. Four

_“Daaaad-deeee!”_

Richie couldn’t help a laugh at the shriek that rent the Air the second he walked into his house, easily catching the Tornado of a lil girl he called his daughter. He hadn’t doubted that August’d been worried sick and terrified when he hadn’t come home at any point the Night previous, as evidenced by the tears that were still coursing down her chubby cheeks. Even as he hefted her up to snuggle against his chest, he ignored his shocked and relieved band mates as he gently thumbed away her tears.

“Chu’s glad to see meh, huh?” he chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly.

“Chu didn’t come home!” the lil girl sniffled, snuggling so close that it appeared she was trying to crawl under his very flesh. “Unca Eric took good care of meh, but chu ’posed to come home at Night!”

“Trust me when I say it was better I didn’t last Night,” Richie told her, gently loosening her grip so he could breathe. “I mighta died, if I’d tried.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean, man?” Pat exploded as his band mates pushed themselves up from his couch.

“Even Poison– _Poison,_ of all frickin’ people–were out hunting for ya!” Billy added. “And we all know that Bret pretty much hates your guts at this point.”

“Let’s just say that Lyrica–yesterday’s final audition–is a lot more eccentric than you’d think at first glance,” he said as he shifted August to his hip. “I’m not gonna say where outta Respect for her and her privacy since she didn’t tell me I could, but she’s chosen to live in a pretty remote place.”

“Dare I even ask _how_ remote?” Eric asked, his brow cocked curiously as they followed him into his kitchen.

“No Modern conveniences and I coulda broken my neck trying to get outta there before Sunrise, remote,” the virtuoso answered.

There wasn’t a Soul in the room who didn’t gasp when he said that, August hugging said neck tightly again at the very Thought of him breaking it. After prying her loose enough to breathe again, Richie explained that he hadn’t exactly gone missing or been held hostage as much as just waited till a better Time to try getting back home. Even _he_ couldn’t say whether he’d made that choice on his own or been talked into it by the young woman, who obviously knew the terrain better, and he didn’t bother trying to figure it out. The bigger concern was that he was safely home to his friends and family, rather than waiting for somebody to find him–dead or alive–at the foot of a Cliff.

“And don’t even try to talk me outta it, but I’ve every Intention of going back to see her again,” Richie said.

“What!? Dude, are ya frickin’ crazy!?” the front man squawked.

“I’m not dumb enough to go without my car as far as I possibly can this Time, not to mention gear that’ll sustain me at least overnight,” he told them, shrugging.

“That totally didn’t answer my question!” Eric snapped.

“Well, I spent two Years in Poison–who the hell that’s sane does that?” the virtuoso snickered.

Even the bassist and drummer rolled their eyes, their stances saying they weren’t impressed as they stood with a hip cocked and their arms crossed.

“Guys, I dunno what it is about her, but Lyrica just _Callsta_ me,” Richie sighed. “And no, I didn’t sleep with her for anything but _literal_ sleep, before ya ask in front of lil ears.”

“Oh, really?” Billy couldn’t help cocking a brow at him skeptically.

“Got too late last Night after that insane chase, and not for my lack of trying this Morn,” he revealed with a smirk. “She made no bones about refusing to do such a thing with someone she barely knows, especially without protection.”

“Well, I’ll be…” Pat couldn’t help whistling as he got the implications.

It seemed his band was starting to realize that there really _was_ more to the young woman they’d so callously turned down the Day previous. The virtuoso wasn’t about to tell them how wrong they’d been about her, if only ’cuz he didn’t know her as well as he’d like to, himself. But even _he_ could see that there were facetsta her that they wouldn’t even know about, if he hadn’t given chase like he’d done.

Even as August refused to let him put her down, he moved to grab the receiver of the phone hanging on the wall near him. Love or hate his former band mates, Richie doubted they’d believe that he was actually safe, if he didn’t call and talk to them, himself. To that End, he decided to do just that so they’d get to actually hear his voice, which simply couldn’t be replicated for something like a phone call. He knew they’d be relieve to hear directly from him, if they’d actually joined the search for him once his band mates decided to file that missing person’s report.

Outta all the voices he coulda heard once the call got answered on the other End of the line, he certainly wasn’t expecting to hear that of drummer Rikki Rockett. But he certainly wasn’t expecting that drummer’s voiceta take on an ecstatic note once he found out who was calling. Despite all the background rustling he heard, no doubt from the rest of Poison–even their newest guitarist, Blues–being called over so they could all hear relatively clearly, he couldn’t help a laugh at his reaction.

Bret made no bones about still veritably hating his guts for what he believed he’d done to one of his closest friends a few Years ago, but made it clear he was glad that he was all right. If nothing else, at least he came back home to his young daughter, rather than more or less leaving her orphaned since even he knew her mother’d lil to do with her now. Even Bobby–whom he hadn’t really talked to as much, if only ’cuz the man kept to himself for than he didn’t–was glad to hear from him this Morn. They all said practically the same thing as his current band–don’t ever run off and try to give them a heart attack like that again. Should they ever find him, if he were to do that, he’d have to worry about _them_ killing him for scaring three decades off their Lives.

Just a couple weeks after meeting her, Richie finally got his chanceta go see the young woman again, and this Time, he was better prepared. It was bit chillier now than it’d been even a couple weeks ago, especially right along the Coast, considering it was now the first week of October. To that End, he’d made sure he’d clothing that’d keep him from freezing to Death, whether he was forced to spend a Night in his car or not. He’d also made sure to take along enough food for at least a couple Days, not to mention actual camping gear that’d protect him from the Elements during a Night under the Stars.

Despite knowing it could very well be a long shot, he’d decided to at least try getting in touch with Bobby since the brunette bassist hadn’t gone home to Florida yet. While he trusted even his current band matesta watch over August and take care of her in his absence, he preferred having someone who’d experience with kids over someone who didn’t. His former band mate’d a son of his own that was seven Years older than his baby girl, so outta everyone he knew, this was the person most likely to be able to handle a kid her age.

Bobby was Gracious enough to agree to watching her for up to a week, considering that he understood his concerns as a father. However, he was quick to warn him that he was heading home to Florida at the End of the week, which meant he wouldn’t be available for babysitting after that. If he’d failed to Return or otherwise contact anyone on the mainland by then, he’d be forced to leave August with another member of Mr. Big.

The virtuoso assured him that–even if he’d to drag Lyrica back to the mainland kicking and screaming–he wasn’t staying gone longer than a week, if he stayed gone that long. He couldn’t help a chuckle as he admitted how much food she typically kept on hand, and that what he was taking with him might add a couple Daysta that cache, depending on how much they ate. After that cache started running low, or God forbid was entirely gone, he’d have no choice but to help her restock and come back home. Not only that, but he honestly didn’t wanna be parted from August for much longer than that without being comatose so he was unaware of missing her to the depth of his very Soul.

“Ugh, Time for the actual trek,” Richie grumbled, making sure his car was locked after grabbing the backpack he used on his rare hiking trips on the mainland.

Unlike when he’d chased this young woman down a couple weeks ago, he’d driven his car straight onto the ferry so he’d have easier accessta Parsons Landing. At least this Time, he didn’t have to beg some local to bring him up here so he could continue following her, rather than just driving himself. Granted, that didn’t mean he liked the Thought of leaving it unattended on even a deserted Beach, nor the hike he knew he’d to make down the side of a Cliff.

Much to his delight as he made it to the top of that Cliff, an absolutely gorgeous voice floated up to greet his ears from far below. As he started making his way down that fairly-worn path, careful not to let himself go sliding with the weight he was carrying, he started to make out the tune being sung. Eventually, he caught enough of the lyricsta realize that Lyrica was singing the Mr. Big hit _Green-Tinted Sixties Mind_ from memory.

Once he’d made it to the bottom of the Cliff without breaking his neck, the virtuoso paused long enough to pull off his boots. Even though he’d made sure to wear hiking boots instead of cowboy boots this Time around, these still weren’t waterproof. Knowing he’d to cross through at least a lil bit of the Cove before he got to the mouth of the Cave, he decided he’d rather do that part barefoot. While his feet might get wet, they’d dry a lot quicker than his socks and boots would, especially if he sat out in the Sun for a bit. His boots now in hand, his socks stuffed down in them, he hitched his pack back onto his shoulder and continued on his way.

“Well, well, well,” the young woman chuckled when she looked up at hearing soft splashes and caught sight of him.

“Toldja I didn’t wanna letcha go,” Richie laughed as he stepped onto the small, rocky Beach that essentially served as her front door.

“I should hope someone else knows where you’ve disappeared to this Time,” she said, taking his bootsta be set aside before grabbing his hand to help him find his balance.

“Yeah, the guys know this Time,” the virtuoso assured her. “Hell, I even managed to talk Bobby into watching Auggie for me.”

“Damn, really?” Lyrica looked surprised as they disappeared into her Cave.

“Even though I trust even Billy with her, I didn’t wanna leave her with just anyone,” he explained. “Since Bobby’s already a dad in his own right, I figured he’d be able to handle a four-Year-old better.”

“I guess I’m just surprised ’cuz I thoughtcha didn’t talk to Poison anymore,” the young woman mused.

“Turns out the rest of Mr. Big got even _them_ in on the manhunt for me a couple weeks ago,” Richie told her, grinning as he set his pack down. “Even they were torn apart at the Thought of me going missing, if only for Auggie’s sake.”

“Just shows they’re inherently good guys, if they can put aside their differences with ya to help findja, if only for your daughter,” Lyrica said.

“Can’t say _I’m_ inherently bad any more than we can say that about _them,”_ he told her. “’Cuz regardless of what the media’s said, shit didn’t go down the way the public thinks it did.”

The young woman was clearly intrigued as they settled on her makeshift bed, which was really the only available placeta sit unless they wanted to sit on the hard Cave floor. He got the feeling she wasn’t actually gonna ask what he meant any more than he was gonna ask about her Past, but he didn’t mind telling her. When he said that things’d happened a lot differently than portrayed by the media, he wasn’t pulling her leg or anything.

As far as he’d known and was eventually convinced of, Rikki and Deanna hadn’t been together when he’d finally caved to his now-ex-wife’s advances. She’d sworn up and down that she and the blonde drummer were long since done and split up by the Time she’d even remotely turned her sights on him. However, the thing that made everyone think they _weren’t_ split up at the Time was the fact that she’d still lived with the man everyone knew as her _fiancé_. That was something he’d quickly put the kibosh on by telling her that if she was serious about being with him, she’d pack up and move outta her ex’s houseta prove it.

“So, that’s exactly what Deanna did,” Richie said. “She packed up her belongings, gave back anything that didn’t belong to her, and moved out, just like she said she would.”

“Which proved, as far as ya were concerned, that they’d really split up and she was serious about things with you,” she mused.

“Exactly, which was when I finally gave in to her advances,” the virtuoso agreed, nodding. “I just didn’t tell Rikki or the others, ’cuz I knew they still wouldn’t like hearing that she’d decided she wanted to be with me instead.”

“Yeah, I know how bitter, jealous exes can be sometimes,” Lyrica chuckled. “Some get into that _If-I-can’t-have-her-nobody-can_ kinda mindset more so than others.”

“I rest my case,” he laughed. “At the Time, I didn’t know any of them well enough to know whether they’d react like that to finding out their most recent ex’d come running to me, so I admit to being at least a lil scared.”

“Now, I guess my question’s this–how’d it all come to a head so suddenly?” the young woman asked curiously.

“’Cuz I finally started feeling guilty about _not_ telling him, so I sat Rikki down for a heart-to-heart,” Richie answered. “He got pissed and said that he and Deanna were still together–which’d certainly explain some of the Nights she’d supposedly take off with her friends and not come home till the next Morn.”

“But instead of realizing that _she_ was playing both of y’all, he took it out on just _you,”_ she said, her eyes widening as it all started to make more sense.

“Pretty much, although it was _Bret_ who threw my bags over the fence we were parked next to that Night and fired me on the spot,” the virtuoso answered with another nod.

“I’m amazedja went on to marry her, if there was _that_ much confusion, even then,” Lyrica remarked.

“Looking back on it, I shoulda realized what she was up to and saved myself the trouble,” he admitted. “Then again, I wouldn’t have Auggie now, and I wouldn’t give up my baby girl for anything.”

“I guess that’s true enough,” the young woman agreed with a nod of her own.

Even though he was still curious as their conversation hit a bit of a lull at that point, Richie still refused to ask about anything personal in her own Life. He found it highly disrespectful to stick his nose where it didn’t belong, rather than simply being an open ear to vent to, if she wanted it. Maybe that was why he was surprised when she took a deep breath before looking up at him, her Chocolate eyes turning into the living epitome of _puppy-Dog eyes_. He definitely wasn’t expecting her to bring up anything from her Past, especially not any prior Romantic relationships she’d been in.

“It wasn’t _just_ my family I was running away from when I left North Carolina,” the young woman told him. “I was running from an abusive ex that damn near killed me.”

He couldn’t help a wince, but took even more care not to spook her than he normally did as he moved to hug her. “Jeez, no Wonder you’re content with being completely off-grid.”

“Yeah, less chances of the asshole managing to find and harass me, at the very least,” Lyrica chuckled wryly. “Kinda hard to do when I don’t have an actual address, and I definitely don’t have a phone he can call constantly.”

“No doubt about it,” the virtuoso agreed, his cheek resting against the top of her head as he held her against his chest.

“That’s also why I refuseta sleep with guys I dunno,” she admitted. “I barely knew that asshole when I first started sleeping with and dating him, or I’d have never agreed to either.”

“I wasn’t gonna ask, but it certainly makes sense now,” Richie said. “Not that you’ve to worry about that outta me, ’cuz I’d rather have my dick eaten by a Shark without being cut off than raise my handsta a woman, even in Self-Defense.”

“Such a lovely mental image,” the young woman laughed.

“Hey, it gotcha to laugh, which I’d rather hear versus that depressed note in your voice,” he retorted with a grin as he looked down at her.

When Lyrica looked up at him again in Return, he couldn’t help the feeling that suddenly overcame him just from gazing into her eyes. His gaze soon flickered down to her lips, which were every bit as plump and pink as they’d been the Day she’d showed up to audition as a backing vocalist. They simply screamed at him, making him wanna find out if they were really as soft and pliable as they looked to the nekkid eye.

Before he could even realize what he was doing, the virtuoso’s head was slowly tilting as it ducked down closer to her. The lucky thing for him was that instead of trying to get away by pushing at his chest and getting up, she seemed at least neutral as he leaned closer still. If he’d to label her reaction as anything, he’d say she was simply curious as to where this was gonna go, and how quickly. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing since at least she wasn’t freakin’ out on him, especially with the kinda Past she’d just been telling him about mere moments ago.

Richie couldn’t bite back a soft gasp as their lips finally met, a feeling akin to static electricity sparking between every part of them that touched. Even where his right hand had roamed upward to cup the base of her skull, effectively trapping her in the gentle kiss, felt like there’d been a spark between them. He’d never experienced anything like this, whether it was from a platonic touch or a chaste kiss, and he certainly didn’t wanna stop now, rather than exploring the possibilities.

The young woman moaned softly, readily parting her lips when she felt the gentle prodding of his tongue against them. He couldn’t say he wasn’t a bit surprised by that and be telling the Truth, again ’cuz of what she’d been telling him just moments ago. But her reaction certainly wasn’t a bad one, and while he knew he couldn’t allow thingsta go too far for Fear that he’d spook her, he was grateful. Maybe this was the Beginning of something absolutely beautiful for both of them, but there was really only one way to find out. As long as he could convince her that he was worth it, they could explore far more than just a somewhat passionate kiss that’d stir just about _any_ man’s ardor.


	5. Five

By the Time Thanksgiving rolled around almost two months later, Richie wouldn’t deny that he’d more than fallen head-over-cowboy-boots for that eccentric young woman. She was so much different, as compared to any other woman he’d ever met, and in all the best ways possible. He wouldn’t go so far as to say she was like his mother, ’cuz–although there were certainly similarities between them–there were some obvious differences there, too.

While Lyrica seemed to be just as family-oriented and–dare he even say it–Traditional as Georgine Kotzen, she was definitely more Modern and _out there_ with her beliefs. He’d been surprised to make it to her Cave for her birthday–his third trip out to Santa Catalina Island–and find her in the middle of something that’d scare most men shitless. To find out she was a literal Witch once she’d come outta whatever trance she’d settled into and explained what she’d been doing was definitely a surprise. But the thing that made him actually wanna learn more was the undeniable sense of some kinda Charge in the very Air around the mouth of her Cave upon his arrival.

Laughing, she’d explained that that was the Energy shift of her slipping into her meditative trance, which allowed her to unwind after the minor spell she’d done prolly about the Time he arrived in Avalon. Those sensitive enough could feel that stirred-up Energy, and most described it as a kinda static Charge in the Air around them. Another comparison she made was when a Spirit was trying to Manifest in the vicinity, and one felt a resulting cold spot as they did so. Spirits drew on thermal Energy as much as they could draw on batteries in a TV remote, which left behind a cold area indicative of their Energetic feeding.

The virtuoso’d taken a couple weeksta wrap his mind around it, but he didn’t knock her beliefs–no matter how hokey he might find them–for one simple reason. His parents’d raised him to follow his heart without forcing any part of himself on another, and that included a specific religion or lack thereof. She seemed to be of much the same mindset, albeit for a completely different reason, which allowed them to connect more.

_“Mmm,_ I can’t Begin to say how glad I am thatcha decided to come to the mainland for Thanksgiving,” Richie hummed. He gently held her against his torso as they made the ferry trip into Long Beach, his ass resting against the hood of his car since he wasn’t quite sitting, but not entirely standing, either.

“Well, _you_ kinda unknowingly celebrated the same thing with me,” the young woman chuckled, tilting her head back to look up at him.

“Huh?” He couldn’t help his brows furrowing in confusion. “Whaddaya mean by that?”

“Remember how I toldja that–as a Witch–I celebrate a few of the same holidays, just under different names and sometimes at different Times of the Year?” Lyrica countered.

“Yeah, I remember,” the virtuoso answered, nodding.

“That first trip ya made out to the Cave when ya chased me down–the next Day was a Sabbat called _Mabon,”_ she told him.

Richie cocked his head curiously, not quite sure what she meant by that.

_“Mabon’s_ the second of three harvest festivals– _Lughnasadh_ on August first’s the first of those three, _Samhain_ on what you know as Halloween Night being the third,” the young woman explained. “They each celebrate a different part of the harvest, which comes at roughly the Time of the Sabbat that celebrates ’em.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding intrigued.

_“Lughnasadh_ celebrates the harvest of Corn and other grains, _Mabon_ the harvest of things like Apples and Grapes, and _Samhain_ the things like Punkins and other gourds,” Lyrica answered.

“Can’t say that’s an altogether bad thing,” the virtuoso mused, a thoughtful look overtaking his face.

“Well, another part to _Mabon’s_ that it’s basically a combination of Thanksgiving and _Dia de los Muertos,”_ she told him. “The Beginnings of the focus on Death and rememberance’re present at _Mabon,_ but not quite as strongly as at _Samhain.”_

The young woman explained that during the Sabbat of _Mabon_ –which was on the same Day as the Autumn Equinox–there was a higher focus on giving thanks for what one had. Whether that was study shelter or a well-stocked larder to get through the Winter months with, one’s continued good Health, or something else, it was still the Time to be thankful for those things and so much more. To that End, it was pretty much identical to the Thanksgiving he’d grown up celebrating, right down to the foods served as a part of the ensuing feast, just a couple months earlier than he was used to.

Due to being unfamiliar with Pagan customs, Richie hadn’t realized when he’d chased her down that the moment of the Autumn Equinox was at roughly six the next Morn. That meant that–in a weird sorta way–the breakfast they’d shared before she saw him safely back to the mainland was a sorta two-person feast. Not only that, but knowing he at least made it back to Long Beach safely’d given her something elseta be thankful for.

Whether he’d known at the Time or not, Lyrica still considered him to’ve at least somewhat celebrated the Sabbat with her to a certain extent. As far as she was concerned, coming ashore to celebrate Thanksgiving with him was essentially Returning the favor. If there was one thing he’d learned about her in the last couple months, it was that she was incredibly fair and just, so she wouldn’t ask anything of him that she refused to do or give, herself. Even if she didn’t like the more mainstream holidays–especially ones like Halloween and Christmas–that didn’t mean she’d refuseta celebrate with him altogether. She either just wouldn’t have as much fun, or she’d teach him about those holidays’ true originsta give him a better Understanding of why that was.

It wasn’t long before the ferry docked at the Long Beach port, which was pretty much the only thing to make the virtuoso let her go. Granted, that didn’t last for long, ’cuz pretty much as soon as they were settled in his car, he managed to twine their arms like newlyweds at their wedding reception. He might not be able to hold her hand due to needing to switch gears frequently, but that didn’t mean he’d to break what lil of a physical connection they could possibly have right now.

_“Bienvenido a la Casa de Kotzen,”_ he chuckled as he parked in his driveway not long after they’d docked at the ferry port.

_“Un caloroso benvenuto, davvero,”_ Lyrica laughed, grinning as he cocked a brow at her.

“That didn’t quite sound right, if ya were speaking Spanish,” the virtuoso mused.

“’Cuz I wasn’t–I was speaking Italian,” she told him as he pulled his keys outta the ignition. “But I said, _A warm welcome, indeed.”_

“So, ya actually understood what I said?” Richie laughed, both of them now standing outside his car as she leaned back in for what lil she’d brought.

“Yeah, ’cuz it’d be _Benvenuti a Casa di Kotzen_ in Italian,” the young woman answered.

“Damn, that’s pretty similar,” he mused, helping her grab not only her personal belongings, but what she needed to whip up a couple quick thingsta add to today’s feast.

“Spanish, Italian, French–they all technically stemmed from Latin,” Lyrica told him as they headed inside once he’d locked his car. “So, even if ya dunno Spanish, you’d be able to figure out a lotta it by knowing Italian and vice versa.”

Neither of them got a chanceta say anything else before a hyper Tornado of a lil girl barreled into him with a happy shriek, which made him laugh. The virtuoso managed to adjust the bags he’d been carrying so they were all in one hand, the other moving to steady his daughter as she settled her weight right on his feet. Making sure she’d a good enough grip on his hips since she was so short, he headed off toward the kitchen, carefully shortening his strides so he wouldn’t hurt her.

As he headed into that particular room, Richie introduced the pair of females, lil August looking up at the woman who’d come home with her daddy curiously. He couldn’t hide his surprise when a fairly serious look settled over her face and she asked a question he hadn’t even put any thought into. Considering what she’d asked and the implications the answer held, it was no Wonder he was so surprised that she’d asked. Then again, looking up to see both his parents were up and sipping their coffee just made him that much more unsure of what answer he should give, all things considered.

“Are chu gonna be my new mommy?” his daughter asked as she looked up.

“Well, that depends on a lotta different things,” the young woman answered, kneeling down as she let go of him so she was on the girl’s level and could look her in the eye.

“Like what?” August asked curiously.

“Well, first and foremost, how much I End up liking your daddy,” she chuckled. “’Cuz while I won’t say he’s not a good friend, I’d definitely say it’s a lil early to become _anyone’s_ mommy, even yours.”

“So, chu _might?”_ The lil girl’s eyes seemed to Light up at that answer.

“Personally, I think the potential’s there,” Lyrica answered. “But your daddy’s to think that, too, or we’d End up fighting more than we didn’t.”

“Well, I’m not gonna lie and say I _don’t_ think the potential’s there, too,” he chuckled, sounding a bit nervous. “But we’ve known each other only a couple months, and we haven’t exactly spent a lotta Time together.”

“Mostly my fault for that, but yeah–definitely fair points,” the young woman agreed, finally rising back to her full height of only five-four. “Which’s why I’m not saying anything’s guaranteed, but it’s still within the Realm of Possibility.”

“Fair enough.” Richie nodded, well aware that his parents were listening. “I guess I’m just surprisedja actually answered her question instead of trying to be evasive about it.”

“Insanity might be the best defense, but Honesty’s the best policy,” she laughed. “Andja already know how big on Honesty I am, so I dunno why you’d be surprised.”

“When ya put it like that, I really shouldn’t be,” the virtuoso agreed with a laugh of his own.

Turning his attention to his parents, he quickly introduced them to the woman he could easily see being his next Romantic partner–and he meant for more than just sex. Georgine and Rich, Sr. were thrilled to meet her, his mother shooting him a look before she rattled off in Spanish at an almost tongue-twisting pace. Part of him wasn’t surprised that she seemed to like Lyrica already, but another part was mortified enough for his faceta turn Beet-red at the reprimanding he was given.

He wasn’t entirely sure that the young woman’d understood what his mother’d just said about thinking with the head on his shoulders more than the one in his britches. Those words mighta flown over her head entirely since she’d pretty much admitted that she didn’t speak Spanish out front. But on the flip-side, she mighta understood her entirely–or at least caught enough to figure out the basic gist–from speaking Italian instead.

Said young woman snickered, which just made him groan and face-palm as he realized she’d at least figured out the basic gist. Georgine cocked a brow curiously, wondering what on Earth’d make her son react like that as he shoved his hair back outta his face. That was when the woman he was so interested in shot her a grin and said that–if she’d said what she _thought_ she had–she didn’t have to worry about him making _that_ mistake anytime soon. One could almost say she was a steadfast prude, as stubborn and picky as she was about those she got the slightest bit Romantic with.

“Let’s just say it takes a lot to crack my shell, but the effort’s worth it for those that can manage it, and leave it at that,” she told her when she looked curious. “’Cuz if I was gonna be _that_ kinda girl with him, it woulda happened when we first met a couple months ago.”

“And I can safely say it didn’t, not for my lack of trying,” Richie chuckled. “But I’d rather not have a remote Cave I doubt anyone who knows me’d find become my grave.”

“Nah, the Cave wouldn’t become your grave–you’d start stinking eventually,” the young woman laughed. “I’d just give ya a Naval burial since the Sea’s right outside what serves as my front door.”

“That’s even worse since I’d _definitely_ never be found, if I gave ya reason to kill me!” he retorted, unable to help his own grin.

“All the more reason not to push my buttons then, ain’t it?” Lyrica asked.

“Well, no more than enough to slowly wear ya down, that is,” the virtuoso said.

_“Slowly_ being the key word there,” she told him. “’Cuz you’ll just as soon leave tour a needy man as get me this quick, depending on how ya go about it.”

“God, I’ma lose my mind on the road,” Richie chuckled. “’Cuz I’ll be honest and say no one’s caught my attention since I met you, so I doubt even a groupie’s gonna do the trick without me pretty much snapping.”

Georgine and Rich, Sr. seemed a lil too pleased to hear him say that, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing as far as even _he_ was concerned. As wild and Chaotic as his Life’d been since he was a teenager, they were more used to him jumping straight into bed with whomever caught even a moment of his attention. Hearing that a woman stubborn enough to force him into waiting’d caught his attention was like a breath of fresh Air to them, ’cuz they thought that was just the thing he needed.

Essentially hijacking his kitchen, Lyrica got to work on the couple things she’d Intended to make to add to their feast today. She’d already told him they were a couple recipes she basically scaled down for herself during _Mabon,_ but considering what she’d told him about that Sabbat, he wasn’t surprised by her choice. He also wasn’t surprised that she refused to tell his mother where she’d gotten the recipes from, citing them being old family recipes as her reason. If there was one thing this young woman didn’t do easily any more than she cracked easily, it was give up her Secrets until and unless she was ready to. Without being ready to do such a thing–like when she’d told him about her abusive ex–she’d keep quiet and take those Secretsta her grave.

August was more than a lil enthusiastic about helping her when she called her over, which brought yet another smile to his face. Richie’d been worried about how introducing her to his family, whether it was a holiday or not, was gonna go from the moment he’d decided to invite her. He knew his parents might immediately hate her, and that like most kids, his daughter might be resentful of what she thought was gonna be a new mom.

Things seemed to be going absolutely swimmingly, though, and he couldn’t have possibly been more grateful, if he’d tried. Maybe that was something else he needed to add to his list of what he was thankful for this Year–that he all but had a girlfriend his family seemed just as smitten with as he was. While nothing was official at the moment, it damn near seemed like it–and that gave him Hope for the immediate Future. He fully Intended to take his Time, but he also Intended to take the next step toward making things between them official once he felt the Time was right.


	6. Six

Not quite a month later, Richie’d once again brought the young woman he so desired to the mainland for a holiday celebration. Part of him wouldn’t admit it–not even to her–but he worried about her being out in that Cave by herself with such cooler Weather moving in. The average low in December might be around fifty degrees, but the _record_ low was closer to thirty degrees, which was significantly colder. Being so closeta the Coast–and in a Cave, which pretty much everybody knew stayed cooler than a place that got direct Sunlight like the Beach–he worried that she’d End up freezing to Death.

But another reason he wanted her to celebrate Christmas with him and his family was ’cuz he was equally curious about the Sabbat she called _Yule_. Lyrica swore up and down that it was the origins of the holiday he’d grown up celebrating, that it was celebrated almost identically, but he couldn’t help his Curiosity. He was absolutely certain there’d to be at least a few differences, and he wanted to see them in action for himself.

Having a young daughter, though, the virtuoso hadn’t thought it was a smart idea to go to her Cave for longer than it took to retrieve her. Not only would it be hard to get August down to the mouth of the Cave without either of them getting hurt, but he didn’t think it was smart to be exposing her to the Elements like that for what’d no doubt be at least a couple Days. Luckily for him, she agreed with that assessment wholeheartedly, but she was quick to put a condition on her coming to the mainland for this particular set of holidays. While she didn’t mind celebrating his way during Christmas, nor showing him and his family how she celebrated during _Yule,_ she refused to actually do so around those who were more close-minded than they weren’t.

Richie’d thought about it for a moment, but he’d quickly decided that that was perfectly fine by him, ’cuz he was just more concerned with getting her to celebrate with them. If that meant the Pagan elements of the Sabbat were kept more under wraps, if that’s what she wanted, then he didn’t mind learning more once they were alone together. But telling her that was what got him a surprise he hadn’t been expecting, which’d made the blue eyes she’d fallen in Love with widen in utter surprise. Even as they enjoyed the Sea Breeze outside his car on the ferry trip back to Long Beach, apparently the Pagan education wasta Begin.

“Oh, the Pagan elements won’t be hidden, depending on how ya decorate for Christmas,” Lyrica laughed as she relaxed against him much like she’d done last month.

“Wait, what?” the virtuoso asked, looking confused.

“Decorated Trees, Lights, Wreaths, gift-giving, and the like–it’s all Pagan in origin,” she answered with a grin.

“Ya gotta be shitting me,” Richie said, unable to help the surprise coloring his voice.

 _“Yule_ Trees started by folks like the Ancient Druids decorating Evergreens with Charms for things they hoped to have in the New Year,” the young woman explained. “Each so-called ornament held a different meaning–like Nuts symbolizing Fertility of humanity and the Earth at large. Candles put on ’em–which’re the precursor for the strings of Lights used today–were meant to Guide Spirits of all kinds through the longest Night of the Year.”

He looked thoughtful as he pondered that notion, but it honestly kinda made sense.

“Wreaths’re a physical embodiment of the _Wheel of the Year,_ which I already toldja about last month,” Lyrica continued. “Gift-giving’s actually Roman in origin, but still came from Rome’s Pagan Past.”

“Well, damn,” the virtuoso chuckled. “I guess other than the difference in what Day it falls on, it really _is_ pretty much identical.”

“Eh, there’s a couple other parts of _Yule_ that never made it into the Christian celebration,” she admitted, shrugging as he held her close.

“What parts’re those?” Richie asked curiously.

Even as the ferry slowed to port, prompting them to settle back in his car so it could have a few minutesta warm up, the young woman was more than glad to explain what she meant. The parts of _Yule_ that’d been cut out by the Catholic church when it essentially took over the World in a religious sense were exactly which Deity’s Birth was being celebrated, as well as the focus on the Sun.

Unlike during its polar opposite– _Litha,_ which was celebrated at the Summer Solstice–there was an emphasis put on luring back the Waning Sun. Even Millennia ago when not nearly as much was known about Astronomy and the Cosmos, people knew that the Sun effectively Waxed and Waned much like the Moon did. The difference was that the Sun’s cycle was a lot slower than that of its Lunar counterpart, so it didn’t seem like it was Waxing and Waning in the same way. How one could tell that it _was_ in a sense was by the Change in Seasons, which wasn’t due to _just_ the tilt of the Earth on its axis.

“I mean, yeah–that’s definitely got a lot to do with it,” Lyrica admitted. “Think about Uranus and Pluto, and how they’re pretty much spinning on their sides–the Northern hemisphere gets Summer-like Weather when they’re on one side of the Sun, the Southern hemisphere getting it when they’re on the other side of it.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed, nodding as he cranked his car.

“But think about when ya move closer to the Fire when we’re at my Cave,” the young woman said. “It’s warmer as ya get closer, cooler as ya move further away.”

“Well, yeah.” Richie cocked a brow at her as he let out the clutch once he’d pulled the gear-shifter into _Neutral_.

“Same thing happens with the Sun and all the Planets that orbit it, when ya really think about it,” she chuckled. “Most Planets’re on a Circular orbit, so it’s harder to tell unless they’re tilted a certain way like Earth is, but others’ve orbits that’re far more radical, so it’s easier to tell.”

The virtuoso’s brow remained cocked, and he could tell she was thoroughly enjoying his Curiosity and confusion.

“Pluto’s orbit’s more like an oval, as compared to Earth’s more Circular orbit,” Lyrica explained. “On one side of its orbit, it’s practically kissing the Sun–on the other, it’s all but hidden in Deep Space.”

“Which’d make the Sun appear to be growing and getting smaller,” he said, Enlightenment starting to Dawn. “And the closer it getsta the Sun, the warmer that Planet gets, and vice versa.”

Nodding, the young woman told him that he was right on the money as he shifted to put his car in gear once he was given the all-clear. As she was buckling her own seat belt, she said that it appeared the same thing happened with their own Planet as it orbited the Sun. Its axial tilt made it appear that the Sun was growing larger during the Summer, then shrinking as they seemingly moved further away. But it wasn’t an elongated orbit that did it like Pluto–it was just an optical illusion of sorts due to that aforementioned tilt.

“But Millennia ago, people didn’t have that kinda Knowledge, so they didn’t realize what was _really_ going on,” she said as he turned outta the parking lot onto Queens Way.

“Which made Ancient societies think the Sun really _was_ leaving and Returning, depending on what Time of Year we’re talking about,” Richie mused.

“Bingo.” The young woman grinned as he glanced at her when he shifted his gaze to check his mirror. “That’s why we find within _Yule_ Traditions–particularly those of Northern Europe–folks celebrating the Return of the Sun, as well as the Birth of the God, especially the Sun Gods like Apollo.”

“Now I get why Christianity swears Jesus was born in December, even though they’re starting to find evidence that he was really born in June or whatever,” he chuckled as he merged onto the seven-ten.

“Exactly, ’cuz Catholicism ripped off pretty much everything Pagan, subtracted a few key parts, slapped a new name on it, and tried to sell it as their own,” Lyrica said. “Considering that they’re far more Warmongering for all the wrong reasons and pretty much say, _Convert or die,_ it’s no Wonder I’d rather be Pagan.”

“Keep telling me shit like this, and I might just convert, myself,” the virtuoso laughed. “’Cuz Paganism’s sounding like a far more pleasant religion, the more ya tell me.”

Joining his laughter, she told him that in all Honesty, Paganism wasn’t exactly a peaceful religion–at least, not the way he meant it. After all, one only had to look back on the Vikings and their raids, or the Celts and how they made to conquer neighboring clans–even the Romans and how they tried to take over all of Europe in their Empire–to see that that was pretty much a lie. The way it was more peaceful was that Pagans didn’t believe in forcing their beliefs on another–they were more of a mind to educate when and where they could, or turn the other cheek and continue pursuing their studies when the Ignorance was too much to combat.

Glancing over at him as he took the ramp that’d allow him to merge onto the four-oh-five just a few miles up the road, she said there was also another key difference. Any true Pagan like herself didn’t consider Paganism a religion like Christianity was, but rather simply a Spirituality. Richie didn’t get a chanceta ask what she meant before she said, _Spirituality’s Freedom_ – _religion’s just crowd-Control_.

When he thought about it like that, he supposed that Paganism really _wasn’t_ a religion as much as a Spirituality. Basing it on how he’d seen her act compared to the way he and a lotta other Christians acted and felt, he couldn’t deny that she’d a point. Lyrica seemed so free and unconstrained, like she was a Bird soaring on the Winds high above, whenever she so much as meditated. The same couldn’t be said about how he felt when he went to church, which’d never exactly felt Natural to him, if he were honest.

“Which’s exactly why I prefer my Paganism and dancing nekkid under a Full Moon–when it’s warm enough, that is–over Christianity and being corralled into a so-called holy building,” the young woman snickered.

“Ugh, why’dja even have to _mention_ nudity?” Richie groaned, despite the smirk on his own face.

“’Cuz your reactions’re funny,” she laughed. “Ya almost _always_ let it get a rise outta ya–unless you’ve a guitar in your hands.”

“I’ma show ya funny, if ya keep on,” the virtuoso grumbled, shifting in his seat slightly.

“Not if ya don’t want a rape charge slapped on ya,” Lyrica retorted.

“I didn’t say I was gonna do anything like that,” he shot back. “Butcha never said I couldn’t use _other_ body partsta tormentcha, either.”

“Oh, so I actually gotta say it, huh?” the young woman asked. “Well, then–keep even your tongue and handsta yourself, in that case.”

“Damn it, woman!” Richie exploded with a laugh. “Ruin all my fun, why don’tcha?”

She couldn’t help cracking up where she sat, even as she gently grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together.

“I swear, you’re _trying_ to drive me crazy,” the virtuoso sighed, even as he squeezed her hand. “It’s like I’ma hungry, caged Animal being teased with fresh meat.”

“You’re beyond crazy, if ya think I don’t feel the same way sometimes,” Lyrica told him as their thumbs moved to caress the other’s hand in unison.

“Ya damn sure don’t act like it,” he retorted, his gaze focused on the road.

The young woman told him that that was simply due to something called compartmentalization, which allowed her to turn certain Emotions on and off at Will. But she tended to take it a step further and do that with even a couple physical functions, depending on her mood at any given Time. He might tease her clit and reduce her to a writhing, moaning mess one Time, but get kicked in the face from that kinda action only serving to tickle her the next.

Richie couldn’t help the surprised look he shot her before turning his attention back to the road, considering no other woman’d ever told him such a thing. Based on his own experience with Past lovers, a woman’s clit was either so sensitive, it turned her into a mindless mess, or it was downright painful. Such a thing depended on the woman in question, but he’d never met one whose clit could be ticklish instead of arousingly sensitive.

But even as they rode in Silence for a bit so he could ponder that particular notion, Lyrica didn’t bother to tell him that there was another reason she didn’t seem to be bothered by any lack of Intimacy between them. She wasn’t about to admit that she could already tell he loved her, based on the way he acted and what she could feel in his Energy. It was something he prolly wasn’t even aware of, and till he was–well, she didn’t wanna make him feel caged in an Emotional sense. Wanting to hear him say how he felt was all well and good, but not if it was forced, especially just so they could get laid. She wanted him to realize such a thing and say it–not to mention _mean it_ when he said it–on his own, rather than due to her prodding him into it.

However, the thing she didn’t realize was that he _had_ realized just how much he actually loved her already, but just hadn’t felt confident enough to say it. Knowing what lil of her Romantic Past that he did, the virtuoso was still scared of spooking her into running away by admitting to how he felt. But having been working at sensing Energy more in recent weeks, he was able to feel her desire to hear him say such a thing and mean it from where their hands were still joined on his console. It was for that reason that he decided to finally put what he’d been thinking about lately into motion–but it wouldn’t be till later that Night, when they were alone.


	7. Seven

Later that Night, after his parents and daughter were in bed for the Night, Richie found himself on the couch in the family room. He normally kept his guitars in the office on the front side of his house, the rest of his instruments in the basement room he’d set up as a practice and recording studio. While he was typically a pretty active guy, he usually felt too lazy to wanna go all the way downstairs for his preferred _Telecaster,_ especially since he never knew when the itch to play and get Creative was gonna hit.

Tonight, he was more than a lil glad that he’d decided to keep his guitars at least on the first story of the house, considering what he’d decided to do. He wasn’t stupid, even if he _was_ less experienced with reading Energy, in comparison to Lyrica–he’d felt her desire while they were holding hands in his car earlier. But therein lay a problem that he’d never seemed to be able to get any better at, no matter how hard he tried to work on it. He just wasn’t any good with laying out his feelings in a typical conversation, which seemed to be a failing amongst many of the male population. It was for that reason that he’d been putting other talentsta use lately, and tonight was the Night to reveal what he’d been working on.

Hearing the young woman come back up from the basement since she’d headed down to do some of her laundry while she’d the chance, he took a deep breath. It was now or never, and if he didn’t go ahead and unveil what he didn’t necessarily consider a masterpiece, he knew he’d never do it. To that End, he set his guitar on the stand he’d dragged into the family room with him and headed to the foyer, unable to help a smile when he saw the young woman’s face. She’d some sorta odd Power–honestly, he almost wanted to say she’d quite literally cast a spell on him–and he didn’t bother trying to fight it.

“Almost ready to go to bed?” she asked.

“Actually, not quite,” Richie answered, unable to help the slight nervous note to his voice.

The young woman cocked a brow, wondering what on Earth could make him sound like that since such a thing was rare for him.

“Just c’mere for a few minutes,” he sighed, gently grabbing her hand.

“You’re up to something, but somehow, I get the feeling it ain’t entirely rooted in being devious,” Lyrica mused as she followed him.

“Oh, I won’t deny there being a lil bit of deviousness in the mixing bowl, so to speak,” the virtuoso chuckled. “Just prolly not quite the way you’re thinking.”

She merely cocked a brow again, even as she settled on the couch next to him.

“Like a lotta guys, I’m not exactly good with _saying_ what’s on my mind,” Richie told her. “My language’s Music for a reason, so hopefully this won’t be a total fuck-up on my part.”

The young woman’s eyes momentarily widened as he grabbed his guitar from its stand and settled it on his thigh.

Even as he took a deep breath, Lyrica watched as his hands moved into their proper playing positions, and she was still every bit as enthralled by watching him play. It was rare that he bothered with a pick for the most part, a sentiment she shared when she’d swipe his bass while he was out running errands when she was on the mainland. Considering that it was often easier to feel which strings one was going after on guitar and bass alike without a pick, she couldn’t say she blamed him. However, it didn’t take her long to get lost in the Music that was produced as he picked at those six strings now.

_“Lay your head on my shoulder_ – _I won’t letcha down… I’m not as hard as the words I say when I let my guard down…”_ the virtuoso finally sang after about fifteen seconds, careful to keep his volume down. _“Maybe it’s wrong, but we’re both the same, fightin’ what we feel… I know you wanna love, butcha can’t love whatcha don’t have…anymore…”_

She couldn’t help but be surprised by some of the notes he was able to hit, which were higher than just about any she’d ever heard outta a guy whose conversational voice was a deep as his.

_“I take a lotta chances_ – _that’s what got me here… I’m not on the Path ya see_ – _I’ve got nowhere to be…”_ Richie continued. He glanced up at her from under his lashes before focusing on his guitar again, trying to gauge her Thoughts so far.

The young woman’d cocked her head as she listened, wondering just what the lyrics were supposed to mean, but didn’t say anything.

_“But you’re talkin’ like you’re dancin’, all choreography, and I don’t know the moves so well_ – _I just know what I see… I see you runnin’…from whatcha see in me…”_

Lyrica couldn’t help a slight wince, ’cuz she knew she’d been guilty of doing that lately when it came to anything Romantic between them.

_“So, lay your head on my shoulder_ – _I won’t letcha down… I’m not as hard as the words I say when I let my guard down… Maybe it’s wrong, but we’re both the same, fightin’ what we feel… I know you’re tryina love, butcha can’t love whatcha don’t have…anymore…”_

The young woman couldn’t help her urge to reach out and gently squeeze his knee, which made the corners of his mouth quirk for a moment.

_“Call it what it is, a certain twist of Fate… Yes, the Day’s come and gone_ – _tomorrow is too late…”_ Richie tilted his head back as he let that last note ring out, allowing his hair to fall back over his shoulders.

She couldn’t help a slight smile of her own now, having long since considered their meeting a twist of Fate, as it were, as she let her hand remain where it was on his knee.

_“The pain with the desire could make you go insane… You’re sleepin’ in the bed you made with no one there to blame…too scared to wake up…so, won’t you stay with me tonight?”_

Lyrica normally woulda laughed at that chosen phrasing, considering he’d made no bones about being a needy man, but she could already tell he hadn’t meant it that way. No, the way he’d meant it was more of a _I-wanna-be-there-for-and-protectcha_ kinda way, and there was only one reason he coulda written such a lyric. However, she wasn’t gonna call him out on it just yet since it was pretty obvious that there was more to come, that the song wasn’t quite at its End just yet.

_“And lay your head on my shoulder_ – _I won’t letcha down… I’m not as hard as the words I say when I let my guard down… Maybe it’s wrong, but we’re both the same, fightin’ what we feel… I know ya wanna love, butcha can’t love whatcha don’t have…anymore…”_

The young woman still wore a slight smile as he finally muted the strings of his acoustic guitar, his head still lowered as he obviously composed himself. Whether he was any better at expressing his feelings and what was otherwise on his mind than any other guy or not, this song’d obviously taken at least a bit of a toll on him to play it. She wasn’t the kinda woman to deny him a few momentsta recover after something like that, which was why she simply kept quiet. It seemed he appreciated that as he finally opened his eyes and looked up at her, only moving to Return his guitar to its stand as he obviously tried to figure out where to start any kinda explanation.

“If ya were trying to say what I _think_ ya were,” she said, a smirk quirking one side of her mouth.

“At this point, I’m honestly not sure, myself anymore,” Richie sighed.

“Just an educated guess here, but I’d say you’re basically trying to say that we’re both wanting the same things, and we’re being ridiculous by fighting it,” the young woman chuckled.

“Well, that’s definitely _one_ thing,” he agreed, keeping his laughter soft so he wouldn’t disturb anyone upstairs.

“And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the lyric about laying my head on your shoulder was your way of trying to ask me out,” Lyrica snickered.

The virtuoso didn’t try to deny her halfhearted accusation, although his face _did_ heat up.

“I knew it!” she laughed, gently slapping his knee. “You’re too easy to read sometimes, Rich.”

“Well, we can’t _all_ be a walking Mystery like you,” Richie retorted, even as he smiled.

“Oh, I’m no walking Mystery–I’m about as bluntly obvious as a wrecking ball,” the young woman told him. “Ya just haven’t quite figured me out, whereas I’ve damn near got _you_ put together like a puzzle.”

“So, I like a good challenge–bite me,” he shot back, that smile shifting to a grin since he wasn’t expecting her to take him seriously.

Knowing damn good and well he thought she’d just roll her eyes at those two words, Lyrica lunged forward, knocking him flat on his back as she gently sank her teeth into his throat.

_“Ahhhh,_ fuck,” the virtuoso groaned, simply reacting to that sensation as he wrapped his arms around her and pushed up against her.

“Toldja I like keeping folks on their toes,” she chuckled right next to his ear, her voice holding a slight sultry note now.

“No fuckin’ shit,” Richie groaned, veritably whimpering when he twitched behind his zipper.

_“Awww,_ poor ting,” the young woman laughed, shocking him again when she bit down on his ear lobe, then let her tongue snake out to stab a particularly sensitive spot behind it where his ear connected to his head.

“Goddess fuck!” he gasped, his grip tightening. “Woman, you’re gonna drive me insane!”

“Can’t drive ya where ya already are,” Lyrica told him, grinning as she pushed herself up enough to look down at him.

The virtuoso couldn’t help a gasp, nor bucking against her again when she used her position to her advantage and ground down on him. “What aboutcha wanting _more_ than just sex?”

_“Mmm,_ I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she veritably hummed as she leaned down again. “’Cuz I’d have to be an utter idiot to deny such a heartfelt way of being asked out as a man’s steady girlfriend.”

Richie took a few momentsta process her words, considering the lusty Fog that’d started to settle over his brain. Once those words registered and he’d processed them, he couldn’t help his urge to pull her down against him again, this Time in a passionate kiss. While one hand moved up to anchor in her hair at the nape of her neck–albeit gently since he’d long since discovered her hatred of hair-pulling–the other roamed down the length of her back till it reached her ass.

Lyrica couldn’t help a soft moan, which was all but swallowed by her now-boyfriend’s lips as their tongues fought a battle for Dominance. She didn’t know how long it’d been for him, but she could almost guarantee she’d been without anything sexual for far longer. It was for that reason that she couldn’t help an answering throb of her own as he pulled her tighter against him, his hips pushing up closer to her.

Before long, the virtuoso couldn’t take anymore torturous teasing and made to sit up, even though he was reluctant to break their kiss. That wasn’t a problem for very long, ’cuz once he was upright and able to riseta his feet, he was quick to reconnect their lips. Even as he started for the foyer, somehow maintaining enough presence of mind to turn off the Lights as he went, his hands moved to grab her thighs. She seemed grateful for the support, despite having to readjust how she gripped his waist with her legs as he moved. Course, that just allowed her to shift her grip on his neck, which allowed her to take the lead in deepening their kiss.

He couldn’t suppress a groan as he started up the stairs, careful not to lose his balance or otherwise trip as he headed up to the gallery that overlooked the foyer. At the top of those stairs, he bit back any Sounds he woulda otherwise made as he cut a quick left, considering they were right outside his daughter’s bedroom. They didn’t need to wake August up and have her asking questions she was too young for them to answer, as long as it’d no doubt been for both of them. Luckily for them, the double doors that led to the master suite were mere feet away once he made that left, and they were swiftly locked inside.

Once in the master suite, Richie headed straight for his bed, still more or less eating his now-girlfriend’s face as enthusiastically as she did to him. Gently breaking the kiss so that only a thin line of saliva connected them, he couldn’t help a somewhat feral grin as he tossed her onto the aforementioned piece of furniture. The young woman squealed as she landed, quick to laugh once she’d gathered her wits and bearings only moments later. But it was the almost predatory look in his eyes as he crawled onto the bed with her that made her let out a soft moan, even as she backed toward the headboard. He couldn’t have brought himself to hurt her, if he’d tried, but he wouldn’t deny that he certainly got a lil more than enthusiastic when he’d been denied for a while. A better word to describe how he got was prolly desperate, but he wouldn’t necessarily say he’d reached that point just yet.

Settling so he knelt between her thighs, the virtuoso braced himself so that his weight was supported by his knees and forearms. It wasn’t Lyrica’s lips that he started kissing this Time, but rather her jaw and down the exposed column of her throat. Mewls that were soft, sweet, and utter Music to his demented ears rose up from said throat, even as she wrapped her limbs around him. But it didn’t take him long to decide that there were simply too many clothes in his way, which was what made him work to free himself. Only moments later, he’d managed to divest her of her shirt and bra, the sight he was met with garnering her an appreciative growl. Even still, she couldn’t help the blush that tinged her cheeks since she’d never really been very confident in her body, but she still let him look his fill.

“What’s that blush for?” he asked, catching sight of her reddened face as he looked up from opening her fly.

“Just never really found myself beautiful,” the young woman answered, her face turning an even Darker shade of red.

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Richie scoffed, tugging her jeans down her hips once he’d gotten them open. “I dunno about any other guy on the Planet, but I’d rather have a Marilyn Monroe versus one of those _Baywatch_ bitches.”

She still couldn’t help the shy smile she gave him as he stripped her lower half.

“Having my own Marilyn Monroe gives me more to play with,” the virtuoso veritably growled. “Besides, it feels better than trying to fuck a stick.”

“Same can be said from _my_ perspective, too,” Lyrica retorted. “’Cuz if ya think having bony hips slamming into my thighs feels good, think again.”

_“Mmm,_ good thing mine _aren’t_ that bony anymore, huh?” he asked, slowly kissing a trail down the Valley between her breasts.

“Damn straight,” the young woman moaned, whimpering as he licked his way back up to her collarbone.

Richie hummed softly as he moved to start tormenting her nipples, only to cock a brow when she stopped him before he could.

“Nuh, huh,” she panted, shaking her head where it lay on his pillow. “Not unless ya wanna listen to my bitching tomorrow.”

_“Oooo…kaaaay.”_ The virtuoso couldn’t help his confused look.

“While my clit can take a helluva beating, my nipples can’t,” Lyrica chuckled. “They–and just my tits, in general–get so tender and sensitive, I can’t even try to put it into words.”

“Good to know,” he told her, gently smacking the side of his head. “Consider it filed away for Future reference before I do something stupid.”

The young woman laughed as she remarked on what a goofball he could be sometimes, which made him retort that she didn’t even know the half of it yet. But Richie was quick to turn his attention to finding other hot spots that she _did_ enjoy having toyed with, which didn’t take him as long as he’d thought. Just licking a path down her torso set her to wiggling and squirming, and neither were quite sure whether she was begging for more or trying to get away.

When he stabbed his tongue into her navel, she’d to pull his pillow out from under her head since she knew what was coming. Considering the gasp she’d let out and how he’d no doubt felt her answering twitch against his chest due to how he’d since stretched out, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind what he was gonna do. Sure enough, the virtuoso shot her a devious grin as he scooted down even further and confirmed that particular suspicion. That didn’t stop her from gasping and letting out a cry that was muffled only by pulling his pillow over her face, then pressing it down tightly.

He couldn’t help a soft hum as he gently nuzzled her mound, enjoying the sweet scent of her musk as he let his thumbs spread her wide open. Engorged enough to throb with every beat of her heart, Lyrica’s clit seemed to stare at him where it’d already emerged from beneath its hood like a weird sorta eye. But that didn’t stop him from giving her a long, slow lick from asshole to said nub, which he then latched onto like a nipple.

A shriek ripped out from under his pillow as the young woman bucked up against his face, already trying to grind on his chin. Richie laughed against the soft flesh before him as he shifted his arms so he could pin her hips down, his hands still finding a way to hold her open. He wasn’t surprised that the vibrations of his laughter against such sensitive flesh made her whimper and squirm even more. As far as he knew, it wasn’t that much different from a woman humming or laughing while giving him or any other man a blow-job, especially if she was able to deep-throat. Then again, the ensuing sensations might be completely different, considering that male and female bodies were built differently for obvious reasons.

“Sweet Goddess!” Lyrica moaned, her words muffled by the pillow still held down over her face.

_“Mmm,”_ the virtuoso hummed, gently lapping at her as she rode out the orgasm given when he’d switched to a full-on cunt-licking.

“Fuck,” she panted, finally lifting the pillow enough to be heard clearly. “You’re good at eating a girl out, I’ll give ya that.”

“I aim to please,” Richie snickered, straightening so he could finally pull his own shirt off.

“Let’s just say you’re the _only_ guy who’s ever gotten me off with just that,” the young woman revealed, taking him by surprise just as he went to pull off his tank top.

“Surely, ya jest!” he gasped, his jaw dropping open.

“I most certainly do not–and don’t call me Shirley,” Lyrica laughed.

“Well, sounds like I’ve some seriously big shoesta fill,” the virtuoso mused, finally flinging his tank top across the room behind him. “Course, I’m kinda used to that.”

“Oh, ya dunno the half of the shoes you’ve to fill,” she told him. “But let’s see if ya can live up to the test, shall we?”

_“Mmm,_ I don’t give a fuck if it takes me half a box of rubbers,” Richie retorted, reaching down to his own straining fly. “You’re at least barely gonna be able to walk tomorrow, or I’ma kill myself trying.”

The young woman couldn’t help another laugh as he quickly shucked his jeans, which unveiled what she already knew was gonna be impressive. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she couldn’t help reaching forward to grab him, careful to keep her touch gentle so she couldn’t hurt him. She wasn’t surprised by the aroused groan that ripped up from the depths of his torso as her hand clasped around his base, then slowly worked its way up to his tip.

Another groan followed as he lowered himself to all-fours over her, his hips bucking slightly as her other hand roseta support his sac. The virtuoso couldn’t help a gasp, barely biting back a cry as her thumb found his slit and started to torment the particularly sensitive spot with every upstroke. Even if that spot _hadn’t_ been so Blessed sensitive, he couldn’t have guaranteed that he wouldn’t make any racket in his deprived state.

Luckily, Richie was able to not only keep himself relatively quiet–especially considering his daughter was asleep in the next room over–but he was able to hold back. Even though he’d have gotten it back up eventually–and prolly quicker than he’d have guessed after going without for a decent while–he didn’t wanna deprive either of them anymore. It was for that reason that he finally reached over to his nightstand with one hand, the other gently knocking his now-girlfriend’s hand away from his crotch. The fun was about to Begin in earnest, judging by how he pulled out one of the rubbers he’d hidden and quickly ripped it open with a devious grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for the record, I'm well aware that the song I used the lyrics of in the Beginning of this chapter didn't actually come out till 2011–I Changed that particular detail so it was released a decade earlier than in Reality on purpose. It's been stuck in my head for the last couple Days, so I decided to make good use of the idea it was sparking. For those who've read my works before and recognize it, y'all know I've a penchant for doing that kinda shit–for those who haven't, get used to it, 'cuz I do it a lot! LOL!
> 
> All credits for the aforementioned lyrics go to Richie Kotzen since he's the one who wrote the song in question. If he'd any help with writing said lyrics, credits're supposed to go to them, too, but it'd take longer to look up any co-writers than it took to write this chapter...  
> ~Firefly


	8. Eight

Four Days later, Richie was so relaxed as he helped his mother with their Traditional Christmas breakfast–albeit a _seriously_ upscaled version so there’d be enough to feed even two bands and their girls, too–that the difference was obvious. He wouldn’t admit to either of his parents, nor any of his band mates–current or former–that he’d already gone through an entire box of rubbers in that short Time span. And that wasn’t including being woken up the Morn after _Yule_ not by August rattling his door, but his new girlfriend shocking him awake with an unexpected blow-job.

The virtuoso didn’t even notice when he started humming the Poison song _Ride Child Ride,_ which was one of the ones he’d helped write for their _Native Tongue_ album. Georgine certainly noticed her son’s more relaxed attitude, if only ’cuz of how fluid his movements were compared to just a few Days ago. Not only that, but he almost never hummed _any_ song by his former band, considering his exit from said band.

“Just in that good a mood, huh?” she laughed as she gently bumped his arm with her shoulder.

“Uh, yeah–I guess so,” Richie chuckled.

“I don’t ever hear ya humming Poison songs anymore, not even the ones ya wrote or helped write,” his mother told him, grinning. “But I do believe I just heard the rhythm of _Ride Child Ride.”_

“So, I’m in a reminiscing kinda mood,” he told her, unable to help a grin of his own. “Not necessarily a bad one, but still that kinda mood.”

“Wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with why you’ve practically been a puddle of goo for the last few Days, would it?” Georgine asked.

“Mom, I’m not _even_ getting into that!” the virtuoso squawked as his face turned red.

 _“Ohhhh,_ ho–so, it _does_ have something to do with that!” She couldn’t help another laugh as she rubbed his back. “Well, not that I want _or_ need details, but it’s about Time!”

“Wait, ya knew already?” Richie asked, a surprised look on his face.

“Kinda hard _not_ to when Auggie crawled into bed with Dad and I, swearing ya sounded like ya were dying, in the middle of the Night,” his mother answered. “Dad going to check on ya and hearing prolly a lil too much for his liking, but figuring it out just sealed the deal on our suspicion.”

“Oh, my Gods,” the virtuoso groaned, feeling like his face was gonna be permanently red. “Note to Self–have someone come out and redo the soundproofing upstairs.”

“Why’re we having soundproofing redone, man?”

Turning from where he’d been washing dishes as they were dirtied so there’d be lessta do later, Richie saw that Eric and Billy’d apparently been let in by his new girlfriend as she finally came downstairs for the Morn. After all, he hadn’t heard so much as a knock, but there was no missing someone being at the front door as one came down the stairs. It was more or less a wall of glass that just happened to open for one to walk through, so if she’d seen them before they could knock, no doubt she’d have just let them in. She’d been the one to all but force him into extending the invitation to not only his current band, but his former one, as well unless he wanted to be taught what orgasm denial was.

“Well, merry fuckin’ Christmasta you, too,” Billy chuckled as he watched his face turn Beet-red again. “Whoever did your makeup’s a genius–that shade of red goes with those green PJ britches so well.”

Even the front man almost choked on his own spit as he bit back laughter at that. “Ah, leave him alone, Bill–he looks so much happier and relaxed compared to even a couple weeks ago.”

He grumbled softly, the words too faint to be made out from across the room as he grabbed a dish towel to dry his hands.

 _“Negazione dell’orgasmo, l’amore,”_ the young woman that’d let them in said with a chuckle as she smirked at him.

“Um, if ya just said what I _think_ ya did, no thanks,” Richie chuckled nervously.

“Then behave,” she told him. “’Cuz there’ll be no skewering of the band mates–current _or_ former–with parts of the Tree on my watch.”

“Wait, _that’s_ what he was grumbling under his breath?” Eric asked. “And what the hell’re we missing besides that? ’Cuz I swear ya look familiar.”

Lyrica snickered as she admitted that they’d met her only once, so she wouldn’t have been surprised to find out they’d forgotten what she looked like in three months’ Time. That lone not-so-subtle hint made it click for them, and they quickly realized who they were looking at, which was definitely a surprise. However, they got an even bigger surprise when the virtuoso hauled her against him for a tight hug and a quick kiss before letting her go so she could go answer the actual knock at the door.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the front man breathed.

“So, I finally snagged her,” he chuckled. “Only took me three months and some serious sweet-talking to manage it.”

“Only ’cuz I wanted to see how crazy I could drive ya before I finally gave in,” she quipped as she Returned, this Time with not only his current drummer, but the former one hot on her heels.

“Wait, what?” Pat asked, stopping short next to his band mates. “The hell’d I miss?”

Even the blonde drummer looked surprised to hear her say that.

“Apparently, he’s managed to get himself a new girl,” Billy laughed. “And judging by the looks of things…”

“Zip it, Sheehan,” the virtuoso growled, his slight smirk belying any true malice. “We’ve already got a set of lil ears in the house, and if Bobby actually shows up, we’ll have more soon.”

“Don’t forget the _big_ ears that don’t wanna know, son!” Georgine laughed.

“Yeah, those, too,” Richie agreed as his dad joined them, the rest of Poison and three boogers on his heels.

“Not even gonna ask,” Rich, Sr. chuckled, his granddaughter breaking away from him to run over to her daddy. “Too early, not enough coffee.”

“Ya don’t wanna, even _after_ ya get coffee, Dad,” he told him.

“If it’s anything to do with the other Morn when ya scared the Daylights outta Auggie, I _definitely_ don’t!” his dad agreed.

“Dad!” Richie squawked, even as said daughter wrapped her arms around his hips and stepped onto his feet. “Enough with the broadcasting!”

“Get used to it, man,” Bobby chuckled, holding his own daughter against his chest. “Parents’re famous for it, not to mention just general teasing–even when their kids’re grown.”

Rolling his eyes as he grumbled softly–which only earned him a smack to the ass from Lyrica–the virtuoso said that it was no Wonder he preferred damn near living the same way said girlfriend did when he wasn’t touring. If his own parents wouldn’t try taking his daughter away from him, he’d a good mind to join her where she’d settled when he’d no other obligationsta fulfill. Maybe that’d give him a lil Peace from his band mates, if no one else, since he doubted they’d bother trying to find him.

“Well, ya told us after ya turned up again that she lives in a pretty remote place,” Eric mused as he, Billy, and Pat settled on the bar stools at the island.

“’Cuz she does,” he retorted. “And no, I’m still not saying exactly where–she can do that herself, if she wantsta.”

“And have these goons showing up to interrupt us when we decide to hide there?” the young woman laughed. “Yeah, not gonna happen. At least if I ever chooseta move back to the mainland, we’ll still have a hidey-hole to–well, hide in, if we keep our mouths shut now.”

“Wait, ya _seriously_ live somewhere on Santa Catalina?” This was asked by the blonde bassist, much to the surprise of the rest of Poison.

“Whyddaya think it takes him three or four hoursta get to me?” Lyrica countered with a smirk.

“God knows I wouldn’t get up at four in the Morn to start heading there so I could make it before Noon, if it didn’t take that long,” Richie chuckled.

“Guess that explains why you’re looking fitter than the last Time _we_ saw ya,” Bret mused.

“Let’s just say that’s due to a lot more hiking and rock-climbing than what I used to do,” the virtuoso laughed. “And that’s _all_ I’m saying on the matter, whether I’ve a barnacle clinging to me or not.”

The entire group couldn’t help a laugh of their own, which made August peek out from where she’d buried her face against his lower belly. Course, even the brunette bassist’s daughter–who was actually just a few months older–peeked out from where she’d buried _her_ face in her daddy’s chest once he’d sat down. However, none of them expected the young woman to somehow manage getting both girls’ attention so she could talk them into running off to play together. Maybe that was ’cuz they were surprised by her actually joining them in the back yard to run around and play till breakfast was finished up and served, which finally got them to break outta their shells a lil bit more.

“Okay, can’t say I was expecting _that,”_ Bobby chuckled.

“Lyrica’s definitely one-of-a-kind like that,” he retorted with a chuckle of his own. “She’s an enigma, but at least she’ll never get boring, that’s for sure.”

“If that’s the case, it’s no Wonder you’ve been so distracted the last few months,” the brunette drummer snickered.

“No, that’s for reasons I’m _not_ getting into in front of my parents,” Richie retorted. “Now, quit trying to get me to scar them for Life before I do unspeakable thingsta ya with your own drumsticks.”

“Ouch, dude!” Rikki laughed. “He always scared me with his Mysterious Air, so I wouldn’t keep pushing him.”

“I guess _I’m_ just surprised by him actually inviting _all_ of us to celebrate today, Mysterious Air and his Past with some of us or no,” the blonde vocalist mused from where he and his own band sat at the table in the breakfast nook.

Letting out another chuckle as he and his mother moved to start serving up breakfast, Richie admitted that that was more so his girlfriend’s doing than his own. He’d kinda considered it, then ultimately decided against it since he doubted they’d do anything but say he was crazy and refuseta show up. She’d been quick to tell him that he’d better at least extend the invitation, or she wouldn’t come to the mainland to celebrate, herself.

“Like I told the rest of Mr. Big the Day after I met her, there’s just something about her that _Callsta_ me,” the virtuoso said. “And I don’t mean her Calling to my inner caveman, either.”

“Ya _sure_ about that, kid?” Billy asked with a grin.

“Oh, I’m not denying she was dragging him out, kicking and screaming, from the second I clapped eyes on her,” he admitted. “But there’s more to her than that– _waaaay_ more–and it makes me even more grateful that I managed to catch up with her again that Day.”

“Not that I _wanna_ bring up the Past, _per sé,_ butcha definitely seem serious about this one–more than ya ever were about our mutual ex,” the blonde drummer told him.

“Well, I’ll be the first to admit that Lyrica’s a bitch sometimes, but she’s her reasons for being one,” Richie laughed, not bothering to watch his mouth since even Bobby’s son’d gone outside. “However, evil, bitchy lil shrew she can be sometimes, she’s a sweetheart more often than she’s not.”

“Really, now?” Even Bret seemed intrigued, which surprised him a bit.

“Well, he’s not kidding.”

Glancing at the back door, they realized the young woman’d brought the kids back in just in Time to catch his description.

“I hear any of those dirty words come outta _your_ mouths, and you’ll get a mouthful of vinegar, got it?” she said, giving said kids a hard look.

“Ew, gross!” the lone boy–Zach–said.

“Vinegar smell ickeh!” August agreed as she darted over to her grandparents as if to hide from her.

“Tastes just as bad, too,” Bobby’s son laughed.

“But works better than washing mouths out with soap, believe it or not,” the young woman snickered. “I know, ’cuz my mother tried both methods on me–not that either worked by the Time I was grown.”

Richie couldn’t help a laugh as he agreed with that sentiment, ’cuz he was the first aside from herself who’d admit that she’d a filthy mouth. In fact, he’d gladly admit that she made one of Poison’s most infamous hits–which he wasn’t about to name aloud in front of the kids–seem like it was written by a prude instead of a wild rocker. That just earned the shocked older band a grin from her as their jaws dropped, but she certainly didn’t try to deny his claim since she knew it was true.

As the virtuoso and his parents started passing out plates, Lyrica’s gaze was pinned on the brunette bassist across the room. He didn’t seem to notice her scrutinizing him–or maybe he _did,_ and he just wasn’t remarking on it–but that didn’t stop everyone from being surprised when she moved behind him. Careful not to hurt him, she knocked his hand away from the back of his neck, which he’d been rubbing as much as he could.

Bobby letting out a loud, but painful-sounding groan as her thumbs started digging into the back of it was almost as much of a surprise as her moving behind him. The virtuoso was the quickest to snap outta his surprise, if only ’cuz he knew his girlfriend well enough to know she wasn’t actually making any moves on his former band mate. If anything, she’d sensed something wrong and was trying to help him, which was part of her caring Nature that made her more of a sweetheart than she admitted to. Regardless of how long they’d been together, he felt secure enough in their fledgling relationship to keep his mouth shut.

“Better now?” Lyrica asked, letting go of his former band mate after a few minutes.

 _“Mmm hmm,”_ he hummed, nodding from where he’d slouched down in his seat under her ministrations.

“Then sit up before ya make it start acting up again,” the young woman chuckled, gently squeezing his shoulder.

“Oh, that’ll happen with the next flight to Florida I board,” Bobby laughed, even as he did as he was told. “Kinda can’t avoid it after having Metal put in.”

“So I’d heard, butcha still don’t need to be doing anything silly to aggravate it,” she retorted.

 _“Touché,”_ the brunette bassist agreed, groaning happily as he stretched his neck as he straightened.

“Well, _that_ was certainly a surprise,” Rikki finally said. “Course, Richie’s lack of reacting was prolly _more_ of a surprise.”

“So, I’m secure in our relationship, whether it’s been four Days or four decades,” he retorted with a laugh. “Leave biting her up to me, or I’ma take out a chunk when I bite back.”

“Most men wouldn’t say that kinda thing,” Blues finally spoke up from where he’d simply been observing.

“Oh, he already knows I’m just as attracted to Bobby as I am to him,” she chuckled. “But he also knows that–whether I prefer long or short hair on a guy–either I’ma leave him, or he’s gonna know what I’m up to and with whom.”

“Well, aside from explicit detail,” Richie amended. “’Cuz even if I ever decided that sharing her was a good idea, I wouldn’t wanna know _that.”_

“Jeez, ya really _are_ secure in your relationship, if you’d even _consider_ that kinda thing,” Pat laughed.

Rolling his eyes as he finally settled on the End of the island near the mini sink since there weren’t enough seats for everyone without screaming from the dining room, he simply shrugged. He said that, as far as he was concerned, there was no sense in being insecure when she was about as honest as they came. She was gonna do whatever she wanted to, whether he tried to stop her or not, but at least she wasn’t Intent on trying to hide whatever that was. Well, that was aside from certain limits that both of them agreed on, such as the aforementioned one, which he could admire.

Putting an End to that particular conversation, the virtuoso simply shoved his first bite into his mouth, which prompted everyone elseta follow suit. As far as he was concerned, his Love and sex Life–or even a complete lack thereof–wasn’t a topic for discussion, whether food was involved or not. None of his band mates, current and former alike, needed to know about certain things any more than the kids did.

Once everyone’d finished their food–which garnered compliments left and right–the boys from Mr. Big roseta handle cleanup. Considering that Georgine and Richie’d gone to all this trouble to cook this Morn, they figured it was only fair that they didn’t have to clean up, too. That just earned them a smile from even his girlfriend, who snickered as she remarked on how they wouldn’t require nearly as much training. He couldn’t help a snicker of his own as he explained what she meant, which was that she lived by the rule that whoever cooked didn’t clean up unless there were no other choices. That much’d been proven the few Times he’d made the trek to where she called home–at least, once he’d gotten the hang of her off-grid Lifestyle.

Now that even the mess was cleaned up, Richie wasn’t surprised that the kids started clamoring to open presents. That resulted in the entire group moving into the family room a room over, where he knew August wouldn’t get to open as much as everyone else. Course, even he, the young woman, and his parents wouldn’t get to open as many presents, so she wasn’t alone. As long as the Day kept progressing in Peace, he couldn’t possibly be any more relieved and happy than he already was, awesome sex notwithstanding.

But he knew that Peace and Happiness wouldn’t last forever, considering his current band’s next tour was supposed to kick off in less than a month.


	9. Nine

When Richie left so that Mr. Big could have a couple Daysta adjust before kicking off their next tour in Tokyo just over two weeks later, lil August was almost inconsolable. His parents’d already agreed to watching her while he was on tour, but there’d since been a slight Change of plans. After seeing how she’d latched on to his girlfriend during Thanksgiving, then _Yule_ and Christmas, he’d started considering the idea of getting her to help them so the lil girl’d have an easier Time of adjusting.

But Lyrica surprised all of them by offering to watch her before he could even sit her down to ask after she was in bed on the Night of New Year’s Day. She could tell she was gonna have a hard Time adjusting this Time, prolly ’cuz she was a bit older and therefore a bit more aware. Everybody knew that meant she’d feel his absence a bit more strongly than she’d felt it when he was touring during the past couple Years.

Another key difference was that she was better able to vocalize her feelings, as compared to even this Time last Year. The young woman made it clear that while her grandparents’d no doubt be able to help her cope, she might have other methods that helped her better. He’d innately known that she was talking about Pagan tactics, and that she just hadn’t wanted to say so in front of Georgine and Rich, Sr. since they were still more than a lil dubious about her being a Witch. But the way he’d seen it, if those Pagan tactics could help his baby girl cope with missing him while he was gone, he was all for giving it a shot.

“I know chu miss Daddy,” she was saying as August snuggled against her the Eve of his band’s first Tokyo show. “It’s been only a couple Days, and _I_ miss him, too.”

“No likey when Daddy leaz,” the lil girl sniffled.

“I’m sure chu don’t,” Lyrica told her as she rubbed her back, uncaring of her boyfriend’s parents watching and listening to them. “But there’s one big ting chu needsta remember.”

“Whas dat?” she asked curiously, finally looking up at her.

“Chu daddy luz chu too much to leaz and never come back,” the young woman answered as she craned her neck to look down at her. “If he didn’t luz chu, he never woulda stuck around to meet chu once chu were born, kinda like my own daddy did to me.”

August gasped as much as her grandparents did where they were settled on the couch that was Centered across from the fireplace. “Chu daddy no luz chu?”

_“Mmm mmm.”_ She simply shook her head as she hummed. “According to my own mommy, he took off and left us afore I was born–according to my grama, that didn’t happen till I was a tiny baby too young to remember him.”

“Oh, hon.” Georgine pushed herself up so she could settle on the Love seat on her other side and hug her.

“Trust me, the _what-ifs_ and other similar questions aren’t something I like living with,” Lyrica admitted, practically melting into the motherly embrace. “The fact that pretty much the rest of my family abandoned me right before I started making my way West when I was eighteen doesn’t help that.”

“No Wonder ya choseta live in a Cave,” she winced.

“Well, that and ’cuz I was also fleeing an abusive ex that I didn’t want finding me,” the young woman chuckled wrly.

Rich, Sr. was the one to remark on how her holding out on their son like she had certainly made more sense, now that they knew that. No doubt she’d made mistakes with past Romantic partners that she’d no desire to repeat with him, but there was also another reason. If she was half as intelligent and steadfast as she seemed to be, she’d want any Future partnersta share those sentiments. Only Time’d tell her if their son possessed those kinda traits, or if he’d high-tail it for parts unknown the second he got what he wanted.

Nodding as she continued snuggling the lil girl that’d been leaning against her, she admitted that he was definitely right about that. But she also admitted that–in having been abandoned by her own father when she was so young–part of her reason for not letting him stay at her Cave after he’d found her was this same lil girl. She wouldn’t Wish knowing how she felt on another human, but certainly not one who’d gotten the chanceta meet and form a bond with either of their parents. His own steadfast and dependable Nature in regardsta his daughter didn’t matter to her–she’d have forced him to come back, even if he hadn’t wanted to. Luckily, he’d proven to be the kinda man she wanted, and she knew he’d continue proving himself to be that way now.

“He doesn’t even have to _say_ how much he loves August–it’s written all over his Energy,” Lyrica chuckled.

“Whaddaya mean, it’s written all over his Energy?” his father asked curiously.

“Lemme see your hand,” she told him, holding out her own. “Preferably whichever’s your _non_ -Dominant hand.”

Looking a bit dubious, Rich, Sr. did as told and extended his left hand.

“Now close your eyes, shut up, and just _feel,”_ the young woman told him.

His eyes slipped shut at the same Time hers did, and that left Georgine and August to watch curiously as she gently tightened her grip on his hand. Moments later, it seemed like there was a Change in the very Air around them, a Change that made the older man gasp as he felt it in a different way. They didn’t dare ask why he reacted like that till both opened their eyes again, their hands quickly parting as they left go and shifted slightly in their seats.

“What on Earth was _that?”_ he asked, his eyes wide with surprise.

“My own Love for Richie, not to mention how much I truly miss him already,” Lyrica chuckled. “Ya only felt it ’cuz I _letcha_ –if I didn’t wantcha to, ya wouldn’t, a physical connection notwithstanding.”

“Wait, really?” his wife asked, her own eyes widening.

“If I get to doing something calling Projecting–which’s usually unconscious with me–I don’t need to be doing something like holding a person’s hand for ’em to feel my Emotions,” she answered. “If they’re what’s called an Empath like Richie is, they feel it even more strongly than another Projector would.”

“Daddy’s a _what?”_ August asked, looking confused.

“An Empath,” the young woman laughed. “Basically, tink of him kinda like teh kitchen sponge him does dishes wiff, just wiff Energy.”

“A sponge?” Georgine asked with a laugh.

“The thing about Empaths is that they’ve a bad habit of soaking up Energy that surrounds ’em–that even includes Emotions of others–like sponges soak up Water and other fluids,” Lyrica explained. “Unfortunately for most, they’ve no idea how to essentially throw up walls and turn those switches off, so they wind up constantly bombarded and overloaded, but don’t have the slightest clue how to handle it.”

“That definitely _sounds_ like our son, especially as a kid,” Rich, Sr. mused. “I won’t say he was constantly sick or anything, ’cuz he always had a crazy-strong immune system, but he always seemed–I dunno, tired and rundown.”

Grabbing a pen and notepad that happened to be laying on the coffee table, she wrote out a quick list comprised of thirty of the top traits held by generally every Empath. Each Empath might not have all thirty of them, but rather only twenty or twenty-five, which was part of what made them unique. She said she wouldn’t be surprised if her boyfriend was missing a few of these traits, but at least partially or completely embodied others as she handed the notepad to his mother.

Scanning over the list, she made a check mark next to each trait she swore Richie possessed before handing it to her husband to see if he agreed or disagreed. He carefully scanned over each of the traits that’d been written down, and while he agreed with most of his wife’s responses, he didn’t agree with all of them. That wasn’t exactly a surpriseta the young woman as she took the notepad back to see which ones they thought he possessed, both individually and collectively. After all, she was curious as to whether they agreed with her own personal assessment, but she didn’t wanna give away what she thought till she’d read over which traits’d been checked off.

“Actually, he’s more of a _Knowing_ kinda guy than you’d think at first glance,” the young woman said after reading over the list. “I wouldn’t say to the level of a psychic or anything, but he can definitely tell when someone’s lying to him, and that counts in my book.”

“Really?” his dad asked, his brows rising.

“That, and he’s pretty damn good at reading others around him,” she answered with a chuckle, nodding. “The only ones he struggles with’re the ones like me who _don’t_ wanna make it easy for him.”

“Well, I’ll be…” his mother breathed.

“He’s already got being an effective listener down pat, although he could stand some work on the Communication part,” Lyrica continued. “Well, beyond Communicating through Music, that is–but that’s something that can be worked on at other Times.”

“What about not liking public places, though?” Rich, Sr. asked. “I mean, given the career he picked, and all…”

“You’ve never really paid any attention to how uncomfortable he can get sometimes when there’s a few too many people around,” the young woman chuckled.

“Yeah, Daddy no likey a lotta peoples,” August giggled. “Makes him go bananas and try to get away.”

“Means Daddy’s being bombarded too much when him acts like that,” she told her. “Which leads into the need for solitude, or to just be alone sometimes.”

Lyrica continued with how he’d told her at her Cave one Time that he enjoyed being out there, ’cuz being around a single person kept him from constantly feeling fifty billion Emotions, most of which weren’t his own. That was what led to him sometimes being moody and needy when it came to needing the attention of another, not necessarily ’cuz that was his Natural personality. It was more like him Silently begging for help he didn’t even know he needed in straightening out what was going on in his head from being so Empathic.

However, she wouldn’t necessarily say he was sensitive to things like Violence everywhere from TV and moviesta his actual daily Life. And it seemed the only real Chaos that got to him was when his band was bickering with one another, or when he was actually on the road. The same could be said for being prone to pain and illness since that didn’t really seem to bother him, either unless he was just that good at hiding it.

The next trait on the list was Richie often having folks–including herself–feel as if they could trust him with their very Life, even if they’d just met him. Folks often felt attracted to an Empath like a magnet, and could open up about things they wouldn’t normally open up with others about. Many recognized that they didn’t feel that way with others they knew well, and simply couldn’t explain why they’d feel that way with someone they’d just met. It was an innate sense of Trust they’d no real Control over any more than an Empath who didn’t know much about being such could Control their abilities.

“Another couple traits he _doesn’t_ seem to suffer from’re the constant fatigue and addictive behavior,” Lyrica said. “He’s pretty much full of boundless Energy compared to me, and unless he smokes or has a problem with drinking that I dunno about…”

“Ya say that like you’ve experience with it,” Georgine mused.

“’Cuz I can’t ever seem to find my _get-up-and-go,_ even if I sleep for twelve hours straight,” she chuckled. “And I won’t deny that I’ma smoker who’s working on quitting–I’m just good at hiding it when I wanna.”

“Ya definitely had us fooled,” Rich, Sir. admitted with a chuckle of his own. “On the being a smoker part, I mean.”

“Well, the only way Richie can be said to show any addictive behaviors is by being addicted to his Music and using that as his way of Communicating with the World,” the young woman continued. “For him, it’s an escape the same way _listening_ to Music’s one for me.”

“So, what about the Healing and wellness part?” his mother asked.

“Well, he kinda, sorta possesses that trait, if only in wanting to help and keep himself healthy,” Lyrica admitted. “Or trying to be that open ear for others before they lose their minds so they can let out whatever they’ve pent up that’s bothering ’em so bad.”

Both nodded their agreement, even lil August looking intrigued.

“And he’s definitely a curious one who seeks the Truth more than he doesn’t,” she said. “Not only that, but he’s proven to be into the Spiritual and metaphysical aspects of Life, ’cuz he’s forever rooting through the few Pagan books I managed to get new copies of after I left North Carolina.”

Something else that the virtuoso’d proven to be into were Ancient cultures, although he hadn’t zeroed in on any one in particular that he was the most interested in like she had. He also had a strong interest in his own family lineage, a certain Knowledge he wanted to one Day pass on to his own daughter. It was a sense of wanting to know where he’d come from and feel a connection to his long-dead Ancestors that many Empaths experienced.

Richie was also definitely a quiet achiever and strong leader, whether he admitted that he was or not, and that was proven by his career. His Creative talents–particularly in being a musician and his songwriting–were another indicator of being highly Empathic. Yet another thing he seemed to love was Nature and Animals, judging by how much he enjoyed hiding in her Cave with her. In fact, he’d told her that the only reason he didn’t have any pets was due to touring, which saved him from having to find petsitters or worry about boarding them for weeks and months on End. Were it not for those very valid reasons, there was no doubt he’d have at least a Cat or Dog, maybe even both since he wasn’t exactly picky on that.

Another trait he held for being an Air sign like her was his Love of Water and things like swimming, whether it was in a pool or the Sea. In fact, he loved the relaxing and Healing properties of Water so much that–unlike most guys–he’d actually dive in for a bubble bath like it was nothing. She’d found him half-asleep in the tub plenty of Times when he talked her into joining him on the mainland, and it never failed to amuse her since he was always so reluctant to get out and go to bed. Only not wanting to wind up with a crick in his neck from sleeping with it at a weird angle’d talk him into going to bed like a somewhat normal person.

Lyrica chuckled as she said that yet another trait he possessed as much as she did was being a bored and distracted Daydreamer for than he wasn’t. In addition to that, he was an adventure seeker who enjoyed Traveling, which was a need that could be met through touring. He also wasn’t very fond of clutter, ’cuz he swore it drove him to absolute and utter distraction, which was why he insisted the worst of his daughter’s toys be kept in her bedroom, or the playroom downstairs. Empaths were also often rule-breakers, many finding ways of doing what they wanted within reason, even when they were told they couldn’t.

“That definitely sounds like our son!” Georgine laughed.

“Goes hand-in-hand with his own unique brand of spontaneity,” the young woman chuckled.

“Can’t say he’s not appreciative of Life, either,” her husband mused.

“No more than we can say he’s not a mediator, considering his dislike of conflict more often than not,” she agreed.

“And he’s always seemed sensitive to Antiques and the like, mostly in trying to get away from them,” the older woman said.

“Don’t even get me started on some of the Dreams he’s described to me,” Lyrica snickered. “Not all’re dirty, but they’re all every bit as vivid–and some’re just downright weird.”

Both his parents laughed, but agreed that they didn’t want _that_ kinda inside look into Richie’s head.

“The final two traits–being a lover, not a fighter unless he hasta be and definitely being a form of Visionary–are definitely more traits he possesses,” the young woman concluded. “I’m not gonna say I’m quite as much an Empath, but I’ve definitely got a few of those traits, myself.”

“I’m guessing ya knowing about this kinda stuff’s one of the reasons why he gravitated to ya,” Rich, Sr. said, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Especially once he found out about my being Pagan,” she answered, nodding. “When I told him I either knew the answers he was seeking, or could prolly help him find ’em quicker and easier than he would on his own–well, he kinda latched on kinda like I did with that innate Trust part.”

As they pondered everything they’d been talking about, he and Georgine could both better understand why their son’d fallen for this woman almost the second he laid eyes on her. They could also understand why–despite _still_ not knowing her quite as well as he knew them–he trusted her to look after his daughter in his absence. Said daughter was slowly dozing off against her, her lil face turning into her cleavage with just enough room left to breathe, a small smile on her face.

Gently hefting August up so she was cradled like a baby, Lyrica headed upstairsta put her to bed for the Night, her steps slow and Graceful. She almost seemed like she really _was_ the girl’s mother as she took care of her bedtime routine, which only reinforced even Richie’s Trust in her. Neither of them could say that a bad choice’d been made on his part, whether it was in who he dated or entrusted with his daughter right now.

Both chatted quietly for a bit before deciding it was Time to head upstairs, and they realized the young woman hadn’t come back downstairs. On their way up to the sub-master suite they always claimed when visiting their son and granddaughter, the older woman peeked into said granddaughter’s room. Curled up on her bed with August in her arms, the young woman’d fallen asleep while apparently reading her a bedtime story after she’d woken up just enough to beg for one. The sight brought a tender smile to her face as she joined her husband, and she knew her son’d enjoy hearing about it when he called, which’d most likely be soon.


	10. Ten

When Mr. Big’s tour Ended in Hong Kong not quite a month after it started, Richie couldn’t have been more glad than he was. He wasn’t stupid enough to say that he wasn’t partially at fault for the amount of tension and everybody just wanting to go their separate ways–after all, being an Empath in all this Chaos was definitely hard for him. But it wasn’t just the fact that he was an Empath, had been all his Life, and was only just now learning how to actually Control his abilities. It was the fact that they were all as interested in doing their own things in a musical sense as they were in working on new things as a band.

Problem was, things’d gotten bad enough by the Summer previous that this tour was Intended to be Mr. Big’s _Farewell Tour,_ as it was. Billy’d been more interested in touring with Steve Vai–or at least, it’d seemed that way to the rest of them–which’d resulted in Eric and Pat trying to fire him. If not for the virtuoso essentially forcing them into what his girlfriend called a _Come-to-Goddess_ meeting, this tour wouldn’t have even happened.

But with the bassist being so upset that half his band had decided to try firing him from the band that was _his_ brain-child, he’d insisted on disbanding altogether after their next tour. That’d only served to boost the stress levels leading up to and throughout said tour, which left _all_ of them cranky more often than not. However, whether the same was true for the others or not, Richie wouldn’t deny that missing his sweetheart only added to his bad mood.

Upon landing at LAX after that final show in Hong Kong, he just barely took the Time to bid his now-former band mates farewell before parting ways. They still hadn’t been told that he was an Empath, so they thought his taking off so quickly once they’d disembarked and collected their luggage a bit strange. But he’d had enough of the bullshit, not to mention he was starting to be overloaded by all the people that’d been on his flight and the hundreds of thousands more in the airport terminal. He _needed_ to get home, and not necessarily so he could get laid–although he wouldn’t deny that’d be a huge help to him right now. Staying around too many people he wasn’t close with was only gonna be detrimental to him, if it continued much longer.

_“Benvenuto a casa, l’amore,”_ Lyrica said as he walked in his front door, having emerged from the family room to greet him when she heard the door open.

“Gods, am I glad to finally be here,” the virtuoso sighed, grabbing her for a tight hug.

She almost immediately stiffened in his arms, and not from how tightly he hugged her or how sensitive she’d gotten due to a lack of sex. “Oh, boy–c’mon, love.”

“Huh?” Richie lifted his head from where he’d been resting his cheek against the top of her head.

“Ya need some _serious_ Grounding and Centering, or you’re gonna wind up killing me–literally,” the young woman chuckled, gently tugging him toward the family room.

“The hell’s that?” he asked, looked confused and a bit freaked-out.

“Think of Grounding kinda like grounding an electric fence–you’re establishing, or in some cases _restoring,_ a connection with the Earth in order to function,” Lyrica explained. “Centering means you’re pulling your own Energy back in from where it’s scattered to the far corners and then some.”

“Not too sure how that’s gonna help me right now,” the virtuoso admitted, even as he followed her out the back door that opened from the family room.

“It’s kinda hard to actually explain, but you’ll _feel_ it, if ya listen and do what I say,” she chuckled. “It’ll just take some practiceta get even half as good at it as I am.”

“If ya say so,” Richie agreed, sounding a hair reluctant as he followed her.

The young woman led him to the grassy patch to the right of the _cabaña_ on the far side of the pool, where she told him to ditch his boots and socks both. He wasn’t too sure why he needed to do such a thing, but considering she seemed like she knew what she was talking about, he decided to trust her. If not for that reason, he wouldn’t have done as he was told while she was grabbing a couple of the patio chairs from the aforementioned _cabaña,_ then setting them up in the grass.

Once their seats were set up, Lyrica gently shoved him down into one of the chairs, carefully making sure the bottom of each foot was planted solidly in the grass. The virtuoso wasn’t quite sure what the point of that was, but he was certainly glad that it was almost seventy degrees out, despite it being February. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about losing his toesta frost bite or anything similar from whatever he was about to do.

Moving behind him, she gently grabbed his shoulders and started kneading like a Cat, her voice taking on a hypnotic tone when she spoke again. Careful to keep her volume low, she basically walked him into the trance he’d been working on putting himself into for at least short bursts of meditation It was for that reason that his eyes slowly slipped shut, his breathing pattern slowing and lengthening till it seemed like he’d fallen asleep where he sat. But even though everything up to his heart rate slowed quite a bit, she could tell that Richie was still awake, ’cuz his Energy hadn’t shifted like it did when he was asleep. If she’d to describe it any particular way, she’d say it was closer to that period when he wasn’t truly asleep, but not fully awake, either.

A soft hum rumbled up from his throat as he relaxed into the massage his girlfriend was giving him, his brain only half-registering what she said to him. It wasn’t long till he was so deeply Entranced that he didn’t even notice the back door from the breakfast nook opening and closing. He certainly didn’t notice his parents and daughter shooting them confused looks as they started to approach, only to halt in their tracks when the young woman held up a hand to stop them. Considering that he hadn’t done this before, he wasn’t too sure _what_ he was supposed to notice, but that was why he was letting her Guide him.

“Now, just keep breathing–I’ll be back in a minute,” she murmured in his ear before gently kissing his temple.

_“Mmm hmm,”_ the virtuoso hummed, just barely nodding as he felt the pressure of her hands disappear from his shoulders.

“What on Earth’s going on?” his mother asked once she crossed the yard to where she’d made them stop.

“Teaching him how to Ground and Center himself,” Lyrica chuckled, still careful to keep her volume down. “If I don’t, his Empathic Self’s gonna accidentally kill someone.”

“What?” His dad’s jaw dropped in shock as he snuggled his granddaughter.

“As soon as he hugged me when he walked in, I could feel him latch on in an Energetic sense, too,” the young woman explained. “If I let him feed off me for too long as he tried to reoriente himself, he’d eventually drain my Life Force, which could kill me.”

“Oh, my God,” Georgine breathed, reaching up to cover her own gaping mouth.

“Teaching him how to Ground and Center himself means he can feed off me every once in a while, but he’ll find a bigger, more powerful Energy source in the Earth, itself,” she continued. “Not only that, but it’ll help keep him from unknowingly latching onto anyone else–including all three of y’all–like that.”

“So, you’re basically trying to protect _everyone_ around him, not just yourself,” Rich, Sr. mused.

“Exactly.” The young woman nodded. “Right now, he’s absolutely no Control over latching onto the Earth, other people, even Animals–he’s like a baby that’s to be taught how to walk or talk, as it were.”

“Then why’s he asleep in the back yard?” his mother asked curiously.

“He’s not asleep–he’s Entranced,” Lyrica chuckled. “Basically, think some serious meditation to help him drop his mental and Energetic walls so he can do what I tell him to without arguing.”

Both of them seemed surprised, but unwilling to argue with her, if it helped their son.

“Now, to actually get him Grounded since I doubt he’s opened up _that_ particular Gateway, as it were,” she said, turning to head back over to him.

“Can we come, too?” August asked.

“Chu gosta stay really, _really_ quiet, maybe even do the same tings I tell Daddy to do,” the young woman told her. “Otherwise, it might make him mess up, which could monkey wiff him mind even worse than _not_ teaching him how to Ground and Center himself.”

Nodding eagerly, she wiggled against her grampa’s chest so he’d put her down, which allowed her to start heading over to her daddy. Said daddy was still just as deeply Entranced as when she’d walked away from him, and Lyrica’d absolutely no doubt that if he opened his eyes right now, he’d look like he was high on something. But that was just part and parcel of Entrancing oneself for something like meditation, or Grounding and Centering. The person’d pretty much completely zone out, which’d make their eyes glaze over and lose focus like they were high as a kite, so it was completely normal.

She couldn’t help a soft chuckle as she got within six feet of him again, his fingers twitching where his hands rested on the arm rests of his chair. He could already feel the Return of her Energy, even if he hadn’t essentially rooted himself to the Earth, if only ’cuz he didn’t yet know how. But that was about to Change once she was close enough for him to hear her without startling him outta his trance prematurely.

Keeping her touch gentle so she wouldn’t spook him, she gently laid her hand on his shoulder as she moved behind him again. Richie hummed softly, not even really moving as his daughter moved to stand between his spread knees as she watched him. The young woman kept her volume low as she told her that as long as she kept her touch slow and gentle, she could put her hands on his knees, but not to do anything else. If she were to do worse than that or grabbing his hands–such as poking his ribs or something–she’d startle him outta his trance. Not letting him come outta it as slowly and gently as he’d slipped into it’d very likely cause at least a mild mental break.

Naturally, Georgine and Rich, Sr. wanted to know why she said that as much as August did, and the answer was simple. The virtuoso’d eventually be able to process being ripped outta his trance so suddenly, but it wouldn’t be easy, nor pleasant on his psyche till he did. Well, that was dependent on how fast and hard he was ripped outta that trance, as well as how strong he was in a mental and Emotional sense. She still wanted to avoid taking chances where unnecessary, even though she was more than willing to help him through the aftermath.

“Now, if you’re Intent on joining in, shoes off,” Lyrica said, her voice taking on that hypnotic tone.

“Um, okay,” the older woman responded, sounding confused as she kicked off her sandals once more chairs’d been dragged over.

“Gotta be able to sense Energy through the bottoms of your feet–assuming this works for y’all, that is,” she told them. “Hence why I made Richie go barefoot.”

“Hey, ya seem to know what you’re talking about,” her husband chuckled, even as he and his granddaughter mimicked them.

“Well, maybe not as much as more experienced Witches like my mother, but well enough, I’d say,” the young woman admitted with a chuckle.

“Better than trying to walk us through this while _completely_ ignorant, though,” Georgine told her.

Once they were ready, she worked all three into their own trances like their son still was, watching as all their eyes slipped shut. It seemed to take Rich, Sr. the longest to manage it, but that wasn’t exactly a surpriseta her–he’d been born and raised under the umbrella of Christianity, so it was bound to take him longer to relax and open his mind. She was patient enough to wait, though, which was one of the keysta this particular exercise and just meditation, at large.

Lyrica waited till she felt the telltale Energy shift of the older man finally entering the same kinda trance as his wife, son, and granddaughter. At that point, she gently cupped her boyfriend’s elbows and prompted him to lift his arms till his hands were palm-up and more or less level with his shoulders. Even as he responded mostly to her touch, she told his parents and the lil girl what she wanted them to do, smiling when they did.

“You’re gonna imagine yourself as having roots that delve deep beneath the grass,” the young woman said, her tone still even and hypnotic. “The easiest plant to go with’s a Tree–personally, I prefer Oak Trees, butcha can imagine yourself to be _any_ kinda Tree.”

The quartet all hummed softly, and it wasn’t long till she was bombarded by various mental images of Oak Trees. While the image she innately knew was coming from Richie depicted an Oak that’d been around for roughly fifty Years, those from his parents looked more like they’d been around since Colonial Times. Lil August wasn’t really able to manage more than a mere sapling, but that was perfectly fine–after all, she was a young child, so the sapling suited her perfectly. It was that they were able to imagine themselves as she’d told them to–as plants deeply rooted into the ground–that mattered to her, not how big of a Tree or any other plant they imagined themselvesta be.

“Now, imagine your arms the limbs of those Oaks you’ve become,” Lyrica said. “They’re reaching high up through the Clouds so they can feel the Sun’s rays on their leaves, the gentle Breezes playing with those leaves as they dance and sway.”

She smiled as she got an affirmative hum from all of them at once.

“Once ya feel those things, imagine yourselvesta be some kinda Bird perched on one of those limbs,” the young woman continued. “I don’t care if it’s an Eagle, a Starling, or a lil Parakeet–go as big and powerful as ya feel ya need to.”

Moments later, she caught the images of Birds she recognized, but doubted any of the quartet did, at least with a couple. She caught the image of an Eagle from Rich, Sr., a Swan from Georgine, a Starling from her boyfriend, and a Dove from the lil girl. Considering what each of those Birds symbolized, particularly their significanceta a Witch’s Craft, she wasn’t exactly surprised by that.

“Feel yourselves take flight and glide on the Breeze,” Lyrica told them. “Feel the Winds ruffling your Feathers, your wings and tails stabilizing ya.”

She’d no doubt Richie was smiling as much as his family when they all hummed happily.

Watching all of them carefully, the young woman allowed them their chanceta simply soar, and thus release anything they’d pent up on the Winds as they did. Once she felt the Energy shift that suggested they were ready for their next step, she gently called them back to their perches, as they were. It took a few moments for her to sense that all their lil Bird Selves’d landed and were waiting patiently, which was when she started on that next step.

Lyrica didn’t particularly care if they continued imagining themselves as their apparently-chosen Birds, or if they Returned to imagining themselves as Oak Trees. She was more concerned that they were comfortable and at least subconsciously listening to her, ’cuz that was the part that mattered. All else wasta be at least temporarily cast aside for this exercise, or it wasn’t gonna work–which’d be bad for the virtuoso.

Assured they were listening, she walked them through feeling the Earth’s Energy flowing into their roots as much as the Water and other nutrients they sucked up. She felt her boyfriend perk up far more than he’d been, but not in a way that seemed scattered and Chaotic like when he’d first walked in. If anything, he was feeling the Earth’s Cleansing, Grounding Power, and he was taking to it like a Duck to Water, so to speak. August was the next quickest to feel that Power, a soft lil _Ohhhh_ drifting outta her mouth. Even the girl’s grandparents weren’t Silent as they let out similar noises, signifying that they were feeling what she wanted them to.

“Now that you’re Grounded, I wantcha to imagine nothing but blackness,” Lyrica told them. “Think of the Deep Void of Outer Space, just without any Stars twinkling–even the bowels of a Cave without a flashlight or Candle works.”

Seconds later, she felt the Energy shift she was waiting on, which brought another smile to her face.

“Now, look for a lil white dot right in the Center of that blackness,” she told them, her voice still holding that hypnotic tone.

It took only a few more secondsta sense them focusing on the dot in question.

“That dot’s gonna grow till it explodes like a supernova, filling that blackness with nothing but pure white,” the young woman told them.

Before long, it was clear to her that even lil August’d reached that mentally explosive point, based on how they all gasped softly, but sharply.

“As that Light recedes, imagine it to be your Energy, pulling itself back in like a fishing line being _reeled_ in,” Lyrica said.

The entire quartet let out soft grunts as they worked at reeling their Energy back into their cores like she’d told them to. After a few moments, they all let out soft sighs that were no doubt accompanied by gentle smiles, which wouldn’t have surprised her. She tended to react identically when she practiced this exercise and those same sensations barreled into her at the End of her session.

Once she could sense that they’d all reeled in and collected all of their Energy, the young woman started walking them back outta their trances. She knew it’d take them a few minutes to fully Return to Reality, and she purposely made them do so slowly so it’d be an easier Transition for their psyches. If they made their Return to Reality too quickly or suddenly, it likely wouldn’t End well since they wouldn’t know how to cope. That, or they’d be able to cope–it just wouldn’t be easy, even _with_ her help in doing so, and she didn’t wanna see that happen to any of them.

Richie was the first to make a full Return to Reality, his hands back on the arm rests of the chair he’d been pushed down into after kicking off his boots. He couldn’t help a gentle smile as he looked down to see his daughter standing between his knees, her lil hands resting on them. After a few moments, she opened the big brown eyes she’d inherited from her mother, her lil face Lighting up in a smile as she locked eyes with him. It was mere moments after that that his parents opened their own eyes and glanced up at the trio across the patio.

“Everybody back with me now?” Lyrica asked, a chuckle coloring her voice.

“Looks like my back yard to me,” he answered with a chuckle of his own. “’Cuz I _was_ seeing a pretty big Tree before.”

“That was the fifty or so-Year-old Oak ya were imagining yourself to be like I toldja to,” the young woman laughed. “Make that Centuries old for your parents, a mere sapling for Auggie.”

“Okay, _that_ explains why I felt like there was someone else with me in wherever my mind disappeared to,” Richie mused.

“Chu feel betters now, Daddy?” his daughter asked.

“Like I could climb a Mountain without any safety gear and not get hurt, rather than scattered and Chaotic,” the virtuoso answered, nodding.

“Means you’re fully Grounded and Centered,” his girlfriend told him, gently squeezing his shoulders. “And _not_ at risk of killing me or anyone else.”

“Wait, _what!?”_ He whirled in his seat enough to look at her over his shoulder.

“This is gonna become a regular practice for ya, whether your parents and Auggie join in or not,” Lyrica said in a no-nonsense tone. “’Cuz if ya get like ya were when ya first got back home again, you’re _gonna_ kill somebody by latching on in an Energetic sense like ya _tried_ to do to me.”

His face paled to a sickly ashen hue at the mere Thought of doing something like that, even by accident.

“Luckily, I’ve figured out how to cut others off–both gently _and_ abruptly–so ya didn’t really get a chanceta do that to me,” the young woman continued. “But if you’d done that to someone like one of your former band mates–well, it wouldn’t End well, ’cuz you’d drain their Life Force without knowing how to stop on your own, or them knowing how to cutcha off like I did.”

“Sweet Goddess,” Richie breathed, pulling her around to yank her down into his lap. “I didn’t mean for any such thing to happen, I swear.”

“I know ya didn’t, love,” she assured him, gently cupping his cheeks in her palms. “It’s part of being an Empath, so you’ve to be taught these kinda things.”

“She _did_ say ya were kinda like a baby being taught how to walk and talk in that regard,” Georgine said, catching his attention.

Nodding, Lyrica reiterated that–as an Empath–he soaked up Energy much like a kitchen sponge did with Water and other fluids. But there came a point that he couldn’t absorb anymore–he’d to release what he’d absorbed by purging himself once that Energy built up to a certain point. Without knowing _how_ to do that, though, he’d essentially poisoned himself with the various Energies he was exposed to the entire tour the same way his kidneys failing’d more or less turn his blood into poison.

The virtuoso couldn’t help a wince as she continued in saying that he’d tried to latch onto her in an Energetic sense as a means of replacing all that negative Energy with positive so he could Heal himself. However, she’d only so much Energy she could give up before she either had to replenish her Life Force, or letting a being feed off her like that’d kill her. She could sense that he needed a lot more Energy than she could give him to start Healing after such a crazy tour, which was why she’d gently cut him off and dragged him out to the back yard. In walking him through Grounding and Centering himself, she knew he’d be able to purge himself at the same Time he drew from the Earth, which was far healthier for both of them.

Richie couldn’t help a chuckle as it was explained that his parents and daughter’d been curious and Intent on watching, if nothing else. But he wasn’t surprised that they’d been told to keep quiet and not do anything like poking him, lest they rip him outta his trance too fast for his psyche to process. Given the way he’d felt before, he could safely say that jerking him back into Reality like that woulda been _really_ bad for him.

With everyone having made a full Return to Reality and feeling far better than they’d felt before, especially in his case, Lyrica suggested they take their lil pow-wow back inside. Even though it wasn’t particularly hot outside at the moment, the Sun beating down on them for too long didn’t exactly feel too good. Besides, it was closing in on lunchtime for pretty much all of them, and she didn’t want lil August accidentally getting sunburnt. If she’d been a lil older, she wouldn’t have been worried about such a thing happening, but she knew her skin was more sensitive than an adult’s. To that End, the virtuoso was more than willing to agree with her, glad to just be back home in one piece and ready to spend Time with his family–which now included her.


	11. Eleven

The next few months passed, and before he knew it, Richie was Beginning setup for the party in celebration of his daughter’s fifth birthday. He didn’t deny that there were Times he felt overwhelmed and like he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, like he’d be having better Luck with single-handedly raising a son, and this was just one of those Times. Luckily, his girlfriend was not only a big help in providing a kinda, sorta mother figure for her, but with helping _him_ figure out how to handle raising a lil girl.

It was actually the young woman who’d managed to get August to open up about what kinda theme she wanted for her birthday party. Like a lotta lil girls, she wanted something girlie, but not in the sense of having Disney Princesses all over the place. No, after having gotten into some of Lyrica’s Pagan books and asking various questions, she’d decided on a Faerie theme–but not one that involved Tinkerbell. She hadn’t been able to help a laugh when the girl’d agreed with her assessment that Tinkerbell was no true Faerie, but rather more like a Pixie than anything else. Actually, that was her clean opinion of the jealous lil _Peter Pan_ character–her true opinion was that she was just a bitch with wings.

Working together with his girlfriend, who actually handmade the majority of the decorations since such designs weren’t available for purchase at even party supply chains, he couldn’t have possibly felt more Blessed. He’d known from the moment they’d met the Autumn previous that she was a girl like none other, and she continued proving it with every Day that passed. She hadn’t had to take on essentially being August’s mother, but she’d done just that, and it gave him Hope for their Future together. After all, they always said the first Year as a couple and the first Year of marriage were some of the hardest for any Romantic relationship.

“Ya okay, love?”

Looking up from where he’d been putting the finishing touches on the cake they’d teamed up to bake for his baby girl, Richie smiled as he nodded. “Yeah, just thanking my lucky Stars that I’ve you.”

“Oh, really?” his girlfriend chuckled. “And just why’s that?”

“Well, I’ve said before that I don’t have the first clue how to handle a lil girl on my own,” he told her. “Having you come into my Life when ya did–well, I dunno _which_ Deity to thank now, but I know _somebody_ needsta be thanked.”

Lyrica couldn’t help a laugh that sounded absolutely musical as she pulled him down to kiss his cheek. “I’d say ya were managing just fine before we met,” she told him.

“Well, for being a single dad who was so busy, I could barely find Time for a one-Night stand,” the virtuoso chuckled.

“Let’s face it, love–it’ll be worse once she hits puberty and _really_ needs that feminine Influence and Guidance,” she told him. “Till then, I say just let her follow her heart, whether that means she’s playing with Barbie dolls or GI Joes.”

“Oh, Gods–don’t even _remind_ me that she’s gonna hit puberty one Day!” Richie begged melodramatically. “I’ma be sitting out front with a shotgun when that happens!”

“Don’t worry, ’cuz provided we don’t split up before then, I’ll be right there besideja with my own boom-stick,” the young woman laughed.

“Sweetheart, you’re fuckin’ crazy, but this is why I love ya,” he chuckled.

Lyrica was quick to retort with how she knew she was fuckin’ crazy–not to mention had _fucked_ crazy long before she’d met him. The virtuoso couldn’t help a snort as he easily caught her back-handed insult, which was her essentially saying that he was equally as crazy as she was. Maybe that was true–she’d a point in saying that no rock star was completely sane, after all–but he liked it that way.

Shortly thereafter, his parents were letting themselves in with the spare key they’d been given, and part of him wasn’t surprised to see Bobby behind them with his own kids. Other than a handful of kids from the daycare August usually went to, the older bassist’s kids were the only ones he could think of that were anywhere near her age. Even if he still wasn’t on the best of terms with his first set of former band mates, he couldn’t bring himself to deny his baby girl, especially on her birthday. If that meant putting his differences aside and inviting one of the men he didn’t necessarily like ’cuz she’d made friends with _his_ daughter–well, he was willing to.

“Hey there, man,” Richie said, actually a bit surprised when his former band mate moved to hug him.

“Top of the Morn to ya, kid,” he chuckled as he clapped him on the back.

“Catching flies, love,” Lyrica snickered.

“Can ya really blame me?” the virtuoso asked as they parted from the hug he’d managed to Return fairly quickly. “I mean, I’m not gonna say Bobby and I were ever best friends, but…”

“To be honest, kid, I dunno _what_ to think about what went down back then,” Bobby admitted with a sigh. “I mean, that _was_ before I got dried out, so I was usually too drunk to think straight.”

“Won’t disagree there,” he told him. “’Cuz there were more than a few Nights I’d to drag ya back to the bus by myself and _hope_ ya weren’t dead by Morn.”

“Hence why I never really made a judgement on all that,” the bassist said. “Yeah, I kinda thought about it like I woulda, if it’d been my own ex-wife caught up in all that, but at the same Time, I knew I was prolly missing a few too many pieces.”

“Wait, _ex-wife?”_ Richie asked, his brows rising.

“Didn’t know that, didja?” he asked with a wry chuckle.

“Can’t say I did, but then again, I’ve been so focused on Mr. Big and everything that came _after_ Poison,” the virtuoso answered.

“Long story short since today’s supposed to be a happy Day, I got home from getting my neck put back together last Summer to find my ex in bed with my best friend from _outside_ the band,” Bobby told him, glad the kids’d run out back to play.

“Ouch,” he winced, looking at him through one eye.

“Yeah, pretty much,” the bassist agreed. “So, looking back on almost a decade ago, I ask myself if I’d have felt any differently, and the answer’s no. If we were split up, I’ve no say in who Mishy gets involved with–and Rikki’d no say in who Deanna got involved with, if _they_ were split up.”

“I Wish more folks’d that mentality,” Richie sighed. “Mighta saved me a tarnished reputation, if nothing else.”

“Seems like you’ve a pretty stellar woman now, so what difference does it make?” he asked with a chuckle. “’Cuz let’s face it–if Deanna coulda screwed around behind Rikki’s back, she no doubt woulda done it to someone else. And she clearly wasn’t the woman for _you_ either, or you’d still be together now.”

“He’s a point, love,” the young woman told him, gently rubbing his back. “And that says more about _her_ character than yours, if ya ask me.”

Nodding as he wrapped his arms around her, he couldn’t deny that they’d both very fair points in what they said. Then again, when he looked back on his few Years with his ex-wife, he’d to admit that being with her’d prolly only exacerbated a few things that she didn’t actually cause. He couldn’t help a slight smirk when his former band mate cocked a brow curiously, clearly wondering what on Earth he could possibly be yammering on about now.

“Turns out, I’m what’s called an Empath,” Richie chuckled.

“A _what?”_ Now he looked as confused as he did curious.

“Basically, think a kitchen sponge, just with Energy,” Lyrica explained. “And by Energy, I mean–well, think about when you’re in the studio with the guys.”

“All right,” Bobby drawled, gesturing for her to continue.

“Ever felt like one of the guys’ Anger was rolling off him in Waves when ya got to bickering over a certain song, or how it was mixed–really _anything_ along those lines?” she asked.

“Too many Timesta count since ’86,” the bassist chuckled, nodding.

“That means they were doing something called _Projecting,_ and prolly unconsciously–meaning they didn’t even realize they were doing it,” the young woman explained.

“I guess that makes sense,” he mused.

“Well, as an Empath, Richie can feel that kinda thing with _any_ Emotion, not just Anger–and a person doesn’t have to be consciously _or_ unconsciously projecting,” Lyrica said.

“The problem with that’s that I’ve a tendency to take on those Emotions as if they’re my own,” the virtuoso told him. “It’s like being bombarded with an information overload that I can’t process, which can do everything from making me moody to making me physically sick.”

Bobby’s eyes widened as he processed that, but his next response actually managed to surprise his former band mate. He said that if that was true about him, it was no Wonder he was so prone to headaches during the Year they spent working on _Native Tongue,_ not to mention the subsequent tour that got cut short. It certainly made a lotta sense when he looked back on those couple Years, ’cuz he couldn’t say that he’d have reacted much, if any differently. Course, now that he thought about it, he wondered if he was an Empath in his own right, or if he’d simply been reacting to all the stress. After all, he’d gotten what he considered more than his fair share of headaches during that Time, and a lot seemed much worse than just being hungover.

“It’s very possible,” Lyrica told him. “Depending on how long you’re planning on sticking around, we can find out later, though.”

“How would we manage to do that?” he asked curiously.

“Same way I proved to Georgine and Rich, Sr. that Richie’s an Empath,” the young woman answered with a laugh. “There’s a list of personality traits that–even if ya only embody half of–could be signs that you’re an Empath and just never knew it.”

“Wait, ya did _what,_ now?” Richie asked, shooting her a curiously confused look of his own.

Laughing again, she handed him the sheet of paper she’d since ripped outta that notepad and told him to just read it and weep. Taking the sheet of paper, he did just that, and he couldn’t help how his brows rose as he read over each of the listed traits. Seeing that both his parents’d agreed on the majority of the ones he supposedly possessed wasn’t quite as much a surpriseta him, though. Even still, it certainly explained a lotta his personality and attitude, both within and outside his bands, over the Years.

The bassist couldn’t resist taking a look as Lyrica moved to answer a knock at the front door, considering the massive pizza order they’d placed. Now that they’d even mentioned this kinda thing, they’d his Curiosity piqued, and he didn’t wanna waste Time since he could very well learn something new about himself. Whether he was about to turn twenty or forty didn’t make the slightest damn bit of differenceta him in that respect.

As he was reading over the list of traits that almost every Empath possessed, she Returned with the pizza delivery man hot on her heels. Richie was quick to step in to help off-load the pile of boxes, quick to give the guy a more-than-generous tip for helping bring the order into the house. He coulda just left half of it out front for somebody to make a second trip for, after all, so he thought it was only fair. The fact that he’d well more than enough money to cover it meant he definitely wasn’t worried about what he wound up spending for today, especially if it meant Auggie was happy.

“I’ma have to sit and think about these,” he said, handing the sheet of paper back to her once her hands were free.

“Don’t forget letting folks like Richie and I–particularly Richie–give their opinions, too,” Lyrica told him. “’Cuz we might notice a traitcha possess that you’d otherwise think wasn’t true.”

“Like me with addictive behavior of my own,” the virtuoso chuckled when he cocked a brow. “I don’t smoke, drink, do drugs, or anything most’d consider addictive, but I’m definitely addicted to my Music.”

“That, and it’s an escape from Reality–which every Empath dives into head-first, whether they’re diving into three feet of Water or thirty-three, so to speak,” she laughed.

“Yeah, that, too,” he agreed with a laugh of his own.

“Okay, I can see why having an outside opinion’d be helpful,” Bobby chuckled. “And I can tell it’ll be a long conversation that we’re better off saving for _after_ sugared-up kiddos’re in bed for the Night or something.”

The young woman made no bones about him being right on that note, ’cuz it’d taken her at least a couple hoursta go over the same personality traits with the Kotzens a few months ago. Course, it’d taken easily just as long to go over them with her boyfriend, himself so she could point out why she thought he might be an Empath in the first place. He’d caught on to a lotta the explanation pretty quickly, but other parts needed to be gone over a bit more in-depth than others, and the same was likely true for his former band mate.

Focusing their attention on getting pizza boxes open as other guests continued to arrive, Richie knew he was gonna need some serious Grounding and Centering again by that Night. Being around so many people for so long was no doubt gonna push his limits, and he wasn’t too sure how he was gonna handle it. That was when his girlfriend surprised him by pulling out another one of her hidden trump cards, so to speak.

Having apparently sensed that he was already getting a lil _too_ wound up, Lyrica pulled him into the office just long enough to settle him down. While they were hidden from prying eyes, she pulled out something she almost always kept on hand for herself, but thought would serve _him_ better right now. The things she pulled out were a handful of tumbled Stones she said she’d explain the meanings and uses of later, as well as a necklace. She said she wasn’t about to wear that necklace in front of today’s guests due to the oft-misinterpreted meaning of it, which was why it’d been in her pocket. In that kinda case, she wouldn’t expect _him_ to wear it where it could be seen either, but still thought it a good idea to keep in his own pocket.

Richie almost immediately relaxed as he took what she held out to him and slipped them into his pocket, feeling almost the same way he felt after Grounding and Centering himself. Maybe he didn’t feel powerful in the sense that he could run head-long into a brick wall without flattening his head like that particular practice often made him feel, but he certainly felt Calmer and more put-together. That was definitely something he could use for dealing with so many people all at once, and his girlfriend’s ability to sense that so acutely just made him love her even more than he already did.


	12. Twelve

_December, 2003_

_Los Angeles, California_

Another eighteen months passed, and Richie couldn’t have possibly been happier with the turn his Life’d taken, if he’d tried. He’d known his girlfriend for a lil over two Years at this point, and he’d been steadily dating her for almost as long without even temporarily breaking up. Sure, dating a busy recording artist who also went on a couple solo tours of his own wasn’t easy for her, but they made it work. Even helping him raise August hadn’t been easy, but she never once complained since she knew they could always have it far worse than the did.

Despite all that, he was lucky as hell that he’d finally managed to convince Lyrica to do things _his_ way–at least, to a certain extent. She still refused to move back to even Avalon, swearing she preferred the Calm and Serenity of living at the other End of Santa Catalina Island. If she could help it, she didn’t wanna be anywhere near the majority of humanity, which meant she definitely wasn’t moving back to the mainland.

To that End since he almost desperately wanted her living with him, the virtuoso’d started making upwards of a dozen phone calls a Day till he managed to cut through the bureaucratic red tape in front of him. It’d taken him three months after his daughter’s fifth birthday, but he’d finally managed to accomplish what he’d set out to do. That was managing to work out buying a decent-sized chunk of Land that even included the lil Cave where his girlfriend considered her home. He’d agreed to let the State keep the lil stretch of Beach that was referred to as Parsons Landing–but only on one condition. Should he actually build a house on the piece of property immediately adjacent that he was looking to buy, he’d to be allowed to carve out a driveway from the lil road that _led_ to that Beach so they could access their house.

Much to his surprise, the State of California’d been more than agreeable to letting him encroach on neighboring Land just enough to carve out a driveway. He’d been fully expecting to have to fight with them for monthsta be able to do such a thing, so he was pleasantly surprised when they’d almost instantly Caved. Part of him wondered if his girlfriend had been doing some spell work lately that’d resulted in that, but another part of him decided that he just didn’t care. As long as he got his way, which was really an attempt at compromising with the young woman to Begin with, he’d have been happy.

It took three months after finalizing the property purchase for him–and particularly the crew of contractors he’d hired–to get their hands on the required permitsta get started. During that Time, Richie and his girlfriend had been working with an architect to design what he was considering their Dream house. She swore up and down that she was never going back East, not even to meet up with him on a tour stop, but she was also feeling kinda homesick after several Years out West. He couldn’t say as he blamed her, ’cuz he knew the feeling all too well. After all, he was from the Philadelphia area, so he was actually from further back East than she was, considering he’d grown up practically kissing the Atlantic. To that End, he was more than agreeable to a home design that resembled something that be more likely found in a place like South Carolina or Georgia, but somewhere along the Coast rather than up in the Mountains.

Now, a lil over a Year after buying that chunk of Land, their Dream house right on the Northwestern edge of Santa Catalina Island was almost done. It’d only taken so long ’cuz they were forced to break ground in an area that’d never been developed before and build from the ground up. That always made things take longer than if they were building on previously-developed Land, so he wasn’t exactly surprised. Maybe he was a lil impatient, ’cuz he was ready to get moved into his new home and settle in with his family, but he was capable of waiting. At least that’d ensure that the house was built properly and wouldn’t risk collapsing under their feet, which’d no doubt be a Death sentence to said family.

“Ready to get into that new house, huh?”

Richie looked up from where he’d been staring out over the Santa Barbara Channel as he and Poison, of all groups, made the trek out to the island he was soon to call home. “Can’t deny that and be telling the Truth,” he chuckled, nodding to Rikki, who’d been the one to pose the question.

“Can’t say I really blame ya,” Bret told him. “I’d be eager to get home to the girl I’d been with for almost two Years, if I were you, too.”

“Well, it’s not just that,” he admitted. “It’s kinda hard to put into words just how quiet and peaceful it is out here compared to even on the outskirts of LA, but you’ll see what I mean soon enough.”

“Wait, I thought they were still working on the house.” This was said by Bobby, who shot him a confused look.

“Finishing touches at this point, really,” the virtuoso laughed. “I mean, what kinda hardware’s on the cabinetry, panting the walls, shit like that.”

_“Ahhhh.”_ Even CC–who’d since rejoined the band–nodded his Understanding.

“So, not quite ready for move-in, but not ’cuz of actual construction anymore,” Richie explained. “That’s why I’ve started bringing out the shit that’s least likely to get damaged in the storage building we also built.”

“Can’t say that’s a bad thing,” the drummer mused. “I mean, ya obviously don’t wanna bring shit like instruments out here, but that doesn’t mean ya can’t move shit like dressers, spare beds, and anything already boxed up.”

“Actually, I _can_ bring my gear out here, if I wanna,” he laughed. “Lyrica’s an acoustic guitar and a flute out here that’s never seemed to be hurt by being stored in a Cave for several Years now.”

“Well, damn, man,” Bobby laughed. “That mean ya got at least part of your gear in this joker now?”

“Some of the lower-quality, cheaper shit,” Richie admitted, nodding as he patted the side of the moving truck he was referring to. “At least if they _do_ get fucked up before they can be taken into this new house, I won’t be out a fuck-load of money by having to replace them.”

“Definitely true,” the vocalist agreed. “Test theory on the shitty gear, even if it’s not built to the same standard as the really good shit and prolly more prone to getting fucked-up, anywhore.”

“That was pretty much my Thoughts,” he said as he nodded, feeling the ferry start to slow as the port came into sight on the horizon. “Time to get back into whatever vehicle we’re gonna–we’re almost in Avalon.”

“You’d know better than we would,” Rikki laughed, moving to haul himself into the moving truck alongside the bassist, who was driving it for him.

“I’d like to _think_ I would, as many Times as I’ve made this trek over the last couple Years,” the virtuoso chuckled as he, Bret, and CC settled in his Firebird.

It was only a few more minutes before the ferry docked at the port, the vehicles given a few minutesta warm up before that happened. For some reason, there was a bit of a cold snap in the area, so it was closer to the average low of fifty degrees in the middle of December here on the island. Such a temperature wasn’t _too_ bad, but it was definitely chilly enough to warrant jackets of some kind. Granted, that meant it was prolly gonna be closer to the _record_ low of thirty-four sometime after Nightfall, but they’d be able to manage.

Once they were given the all-clear, Richie led the way off the ferry up to Pebbly Beach Road, which woulda led them around to Lover’s Cove, if he’d made a left. He’d gotten to know the island–and the majority of its inhabitants–well enough over the last couple Years that he knew routes more straightforward than a lotta the island’s visitors. Not only that, but he’d befriended some of those who’d Control over a handful of private roads the rest of his first former band wouldn’t get to access that’d cut down their trip by at least a couple miles, if nothing else. It might not shave much, if any Time off their trek across the island, but that didn’t really matter to him–what mattered was getting to their destination in one piece.

A lil over an hour and a-half later, he made the final turn onto a dirt road that was more of a driveway extension than it wasn’t at first glance. Bobby’d managed to keep up with him pretty well, although he was obviously a lil more cautious than he’d normally be behind the wheel. With all these curves and turns going through the island’s Mountains, one couldn’t afford _not_ to exercise some extra Caution, especially in a moving truck.

Turning up part of what was still a hiking trail, which’d been converted into the actual driveway for his new house, the virtuoso saw the structure looming up ahead. It was settled just behind the small Hill that butted right up against the Cliff overlooking Strawberry Cove on one of the few flat spots that needed almost no grading done to it. Even his girlfriend hadn’t wanted to Change too much of the landscape, what with being a Witch, and he’d agreed for his own reasons. He didn’t want the house sliding off into the Cove, nor falling into the Cave from the ground beneath it suddenly–well, caving at some point in the Future.

“Holy shit, man,” the others breathed as they all started climbing out behind him.

“Forget the beautiful house, dude–the view’s the part that _I’m_ focused on!” Rikki laughed.

“Yeah, it’s definitely a gorgeous one,” Richie agreed with a chuckle. “That’s part of why we chose this spot for the house and angled it like we did.”

“If the views from _inside’re_ even half as good as right here, I can see why,” Bobby mused. “Kinda reminds me of back home in Florida, in a way.”

“Well, Lyrica _wanted_ a home design that’d prolly be more likely to be found somewhere in South Carolina, Georgia, or Florida, so that might have something to do with it,” he admitted. “Other than that, the only Beach nearby’s at the End of the last road we turned onto before we hit the driveway.”

“Still downright gorgeous either way,” Bret chuckled, startled when he suddenly shushed them and whirled toward the nearby Cliff.

“What the…?” The virtuoso’s ears woulda been cocked in that Direction, if he’d been a Cat or Dog, as hard as he was listening. “Did anyone just hear something that sounded like a cross between a human and an Animal screaming?”

The quartet with him kept quiet as they listened, all of them soon hearing the same Sound–which made him gasp sharply.

_“Lyrica!”_ Richie took off for the Cliff’s edge at a sprint, forcing the othersta fall in behind him.

All of them were terrified he was about to fall over the edge and break his neck as they chased after him, none of them expecting him to jump down. Glancing over that edge, they saw him pause just barely long enough to regain his footing before he took off down the fairly-worn path as fast as he could possibly manage. Not wanting him to get hurt, they all lowered themselves over that same edge, Rikki catching CC since he was a few inches shorter and couldn’t close the gap without hurting himself quite as easily. Once they were all on that path, they took off behind the younger brunette, who was almost at the bottom by this point.

The virtuoso didn’t bother pausing to pull off his boots and socks like he normally would before crossing the Cove, his first former band scrambling down the Cliff as fast as they could. By the Time they reached the bottom and momentarily debated whether to pull their boots off or not, he was already at the mouth of his girlfriend’s Cave.

Disappearing into the yawning hole, it took a few moments for his vision to adjust to the lack of Light compared to outside the Cave. Luckily, Lyrica’d lit a Fire for warmth that helped with that, but he couldn’t help another gasp as he finally spotted her across the Natural room. Sprawled out on her makeshift bed, she was nude from the waist down, her legs spread wide open–and it didn’t take him more than a few secondsta figure out why as she screamed once again.

“Lyrica, sweetheart,” Richie panted, the others finally catching up with him.

“Oh, shit.”

Glancing up at the panted words, he saw Bobby already heading over to them.

“Get behind her, kid,” he told him, still working on catching his breath as he settled on the makeshift bed where he’d a good view of her crotch. “CC, strip your torso, damn it–you can handle going shirtless in the cold better than we can!”

“Wait, what?” the guitarist yelped, looking startled.

“We gotta have something to wrap this kid up in when it’s born!” he barked.

“What–she’s in the middle of…!?” Even Bret’s jaw dropped.

“Yeah, so get ready for more eardrum-bursting screams,” the bassist warned them.

By this point, Richie was already settled behind his girlfriend, who was now propped against his chest.

“Gimme a big push with the next one,” Bobby told her as he reached for her crotch.

Lyrica took another deep breath, grabbing the backs of her thighs as she curled up around her relatively flat belly.

“Somebody yank a lace outta a boot!” he snapped as he helped her spread open around the emerging head. “’Cuz we’re gonna need that and a knife or something!”

“Bobby, you’re fuckin’ nuts, man!” the drummer said, even as he moved to start unlacing one of his own boots.

“Yeah, well–this kid’s not waiting,” the bassist retorted. “We don’t have any choices but to have a Birth and do what we can for both right here.”

The virtuoso was downright terrified at the implications as his girlfriend let out another ear-piercing shriek as she let out the breath she’d been holding to push. Neither of them’d known she was even pregnant, as far as he knew, which meant there coulda been some kinda problem brewing right from the moment of conception. Course, even if there _hadn’t_ been any problems before, one could definitely crop up now from being forced to deliver in the Cave she’d claimed as her home. What if some kinda infection set in for mother and child both, or something else that was equally serious, just in a lot shorter of a Time period?

Another shriek rent the Air, Bobby completely focused on his Self-imposed task as he worked to keep her from delivering _too_ fast and potentially hurting herself or her baby. That shriek was caused by one of its shoulders popping free of her pelvic bone and emerging, allowing it to rotate for the other one to. Steam was already rising from the wet child due to the sudden Change in temperatures from in the womb to outside it.

Moments after getting that second shoulder out, Lyrica gave one final push that delivered her baby to its hips. From there, he was able to simply pull the child out, both hands supporting mostly its head and neck, but also those lil hips. Carefully flipping the baby over, he couldn’t help a smile as he realized it was a boy while pulling the tiny body up against his chest. That move was both to start clearing the boy’s airways as much as he could for having no method besides digging out any obstructions with his finger _and_ to start sharing body heat. It wasn’t that bad to a full-grown adult, or even an older child that was better at maintaining their body temperature, but to a newborn, it might as well’ve been closer to freezing in this Cave.

After a few heart-stopping moments, a gurgle finally bubbled up from the lil guy’s throat as he innately tried to snuggle against the warmth he felt. Seconds later, his first weak cry rang out before stronger, louder cries rent the Air, drawing a relieved sob from his mother. Even his obvious father couldn’t help a relieved Sound as his former band mate readjusted his grip enough to let Rikki tie off the cord still connecting him to said mother. This was definitely an unexpected surprise for both of them, but he was glad to hear those cries since he knew it was a good thing.

“Be careful so ya don’t jerk that thing into my face,” Bobby told him once the drummer’d handed him a pocket knife he’d sterilized by holding it in the Flame of his Zippo.

“I know, I know–it’s slippery as hell,” he managed to chuckle.

“And it’s only gonna be worse with a single blade to work with,” the bassist warned him.

Nodding, Richie gladly took the Honor of cutting his newborn son’s cord, the drummer holding said cord steady for him to make it easier.

“Bret, gimme a shirt,” he snapped. “We need something to use as a towel so we can dry him off, or he’s just gonna freeze.”

Bret gave a nod of his own as he shucked his own shirt, knowing there was gonna be no saving it after this was all over.

“C’mon, lil man–keep on screaming for me,” Bobby grumbled, being a bit rough on rubbing his back and chest when his cries started to weaken a bit.

Lyrica couldn’t help a Fearful whimper as she watched from between her still-spread legs, completely uncaring of her crotch being on full display for a bunch of men that _weren’t_ her boyfriend.

“There we go,” the bassist sighed. “Keep on doing that when you’re not feeding, and we’ll be good.”

“All right, so we’ve a healthy mama and baby–at least, judging by appearances,” the guitarist said, waiting till the boy was cleaned up to shuck his own shirt to use as a receiving blanket. “But how the fuck’re we gonna get them outta here?”

Somehow able to pay attention enough to give some kinda answer, the young woman reached up to slap at her boyfriend’s shoulder before pointing off to one side.

“What the–” Richie glanced over to where she was pointing and saw a pile of her belongings stacked on what appeared to be a small stack of plywood. “Sweetheart, I swear–you’re prepped for just about anything!”

She let out a delirious-sounding giggle as she nodded, eagerly taking her baby once he was finally wrapped up so that one of the shirt sleeves served as a hat.

Rikki and Bret were quick to start moving her belongings, both being careful with her instruments so they wouldn’t get damaged. Once that part was done, they moved the thick sheets of plywood closer, but now they’d to devise a plan for safely moving the new mother. Thankfully, they’d a bit of Time to manage that as she grunted and pushed again, which both the relatively experienced fathers knew was perfectly normal. Even as he moved to help her with this part, the bassist assured the others that delivery of the placenta was normal, just like with any other mammal.

After said organ’d been delivered and disposed of by being thrown into the Cove far enough out that no Sharks’d come after it and wind up attacking one of them, the real work Began. They’d to get Lyrica transferred over to what was gonna be a makeshift backboard, but in a way so that she’d be comfortable. It was her boyfriend who suggested partially Destroying her makeshift bed so they could use at least part of the foam padding.

Only after she’d gotten a chanceta nurse their newborn did the young woman allow the vocalist and drummer heft her up by using the foam underneath her. But as they moved her, Bobby’s attention was turned to something else that he’d been worried about, but hoped wouldn’t actually happen. She seemed to be bleeding too heavily, even for having just given Birth, whether the environment was a warm, sterile hospital or not. He knew such a complication could be a matter of Life and Death for her, especially if they couldn’t get her to even a Primary care clinic quickly. After all, none of _them_ knew how to stem obstetric bleeding, which’d definitely be a Death sentence, if they didn’t get her outta here with a quickness.

Still maintaining Control over the situation, he was quick to take the newborn from his father and wrap his own leather jacket around him. A single sharp look shut the younger brunette up before he could protest, which allowed him to explain his plan. Due to his neck surgery, he couldn’t lift anything outside a certain weight range, even _with_ help from at least one other person. That meant that he couldn’t pitch in to lift Lyrica and her makeshift backboard, even if he’d _wanted_ to jump in to help with that part. But he damn well _could_ take the baby and make his way up the Cliff so he could get him back to his car and fire it up for warmth.

Richie couldn’t deny that his former band mate’d a point in that, which was what got him to agree to the risky, tentative plan. Nodding his assent, he managed to find a handful of ratchet straps that could be used to buckle his girlfriend down while the rest of them were working on getting _her_ up the Cliff. He didn’t like the Thought of having to strap her down in such a crude way, but it was certainly better than dropping her down a hundred-plus-foot Cliff, especially in her current state. Still, it’d to be done while Bobby started working his way up the fairly-worn path, careful to take his Time as much as he could without going too slowly for the newborn in his arms. Time was of the Essence for mother and child both, just for different reasons, but safety’d to be their first concern above all else.


	13. Thirteen

Six hours later, Richie was so anxious that the only thing even remotely keeping him somewhat Calm was Bobby keeping him locked in a tight hug and practically rocking him like a child. The group’d managed to shave half an hour off the trip across the island to the only hospital on it, but the race against Time didn’t stop there. While Lyrica’s bleeding’d slowed quite a bit during the trip from Parsons Landing, she’d been in some serious shock by the Time they’d arrived. In fact, she’d almost immediately been whisked into a trauma bay after Rikki’d laid her down on the gurney immediately hauled over.

But while he was focusing on his girlfriend–whom he couldn’t even be next to while they were stabilizing her–their newborn son was whisked off by the on-call pediatrician. The virtuoso hadn’t even seen where his son was taken to, he was whisked off so quickly, and that’d just worried him even more shitless. He couldn’t really be blamed, though, since they hadn’t even known he was in the making till he was actually born.

Within an hour of arriving at the island’s lone hospital, once mother and son were finally stabilized enough to be moved, they were being airlifted back to the mainland. This hospital simply wasn’t big enough to handle long-term care for them over an extended period of Time. In fact, they didn’t even have a true obstetric department, which meant that other than triage, the young woman couldn’t get _any_ of the care she needed. As bad as her condition was the moment she was brought in, the best they could do for her was get her on fluids and at least a single blood transfusion. Beyond that, there was nothing they could do for her besides sending her to UCLA, and sending her by Air was the fastest possible way.

Now in the waiting room of that second hospital’s obstetric unit, Richie was barely keeping himself together, which made him glad that he wasn’t being forced to wait alone. He’d have no doubt completely and utterly lost his shit, whether he went off on any of the staff due to his worry or not. The fact that his former band mates were there with him made it a lil easier to deal with, even if he _still_ wasn’t as Calm as he normally was. Knowing that August was in good hands with Eric still reduced the amount of stress he was under at the moment, which allowed him to focus on his girlfriend and newborn son.

“Friends and family of Lyrica Cascade?”

His head shot up from Bobby’s shoulder like a rocket, his hand raising to flag over whoever’d just spoken.

“Which one of ya happensta be Richie?” the woman asked as she settled in front of them.

“That’d be me,” the virtuoso answered. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Not to mention the father of her handsome lil man, apparently,” she chuckled. “I’m Dr. Maria Lopez, the OB/GYN assigned to her when she was brought in.”

“How’s she doing?” Bobby asked. “And don’t say ya can’t tell all of us, ’cuz we’re close friends of Richie’s.”

None of the blondes with them tried to argue with him, knowing that’d just make this woman clam up and refuseta answer their questions.

“The flight crew managed to keep her stabilized on the way from Catalina,” the OB/GYN answered. “Her problem was that her blood was pretty thin, so on top of her womb simply not contracting enough when the placenta detached from it for its own delivery, she just couldn’t clot the way she needed to.”

“So, _that’s_ what was making her pour torrents of blood?” Bret asked, his eyes widening.

“Unfortunately.” Dr. Lopez nodded. “What’s worse is that it’s harder to stop uterine bleeding, ’cuz it’s not like we can put pressure on it like one can with a cut on their arm or something.”

“Is she gonna be all right, though?” Even CC was worried about the young woman, considering what he’d borne witnessta this afternoon.

“Now that we’ve given her extra clotting factors, as well as something to help her womb contract to cut off the blood supply a bit more, she’ll be fine,” she answered, nodding.

“Wait, that’s not gonna cause her to lose anything, is it?” the drummer asked.

“No, nothing like that, provided she doesn’t develop a blood clot–which I don’t think she will since we didn’t give her _that_ many clotting factors,” the OB/GYN chuckled. “You’re familiar with how clot- _busting_ agents work, right?”

“Uh, kinda,” the bassist answered. “We’re all musicians by trade, so ya might have to treat us kinda like kindergartners with that one.”

Dr. Lopez nodded and explained that clot-busters did exactly what they sounded like they’d do–they busted up clots that could be causing everything from a stroke to something called a pulmonary embolism. The clotting agents they’d to administer in this case did the very opposite–they helped folks who couldn’t effectively form clots on their own do just that. Once given those clotting agents, any bleeding’d slow as scabs formed, whether they were internal or external, which’d eventually stop the bleeding altogether.

The other thing they’d done was given her a drug that’d force Lyrica’s uterine musclesta contract much like they did at the onset of a menstrual period. However, instead of shedding the inner lining for a few Days like she would during such a point in a monthly cycle, that muscular contraction’d help stop the post-delivery bleeding. Provided the young woman wasn’t given too much of the clotting boosters, she wouldn’t be at risk of losing any limbs or organs–even her Life. She’d just stop hemorrhaging so they wouldn’t have to keep pumping her full of blood transfusions like they’d been doing since her arrival at the island’s hospital.

Richie couldn’t help a relieved sob as he slumped against his former band mate, glad to hear that–even if it took a bit longer–his girlfriend was more likely to survive without any further complications. After a few moments of essentially celebrating that part, he turned his attention to their son, whom he hadn’t heard anything about. He was desperate to find out how the infant was doing since the last he’d seen of him was the man he was currently leaning on carrying him into the much smaller hospital. This was his child, his very flesh and blood, and he’d have been crazy _not_ to worry about the boy he’d unknowingly helped make. It seemed this doctor was more than sympathetic to his plight, but swore she hadn’t gotten any word on the newborn yet.

As she roseta lead him back to Lyrica’s room to visit her in the meantime, she said she’d call the NICU and find out what he wanted to know. That scared the bejesus outta him, ’cuz he knew enough to know that the NICU was pretty much inhabited by infants that were the sickest of the sick. Noticing his horrified expression, she was quick to reassure him as even Bobby roseta follow them to the young woman’s room.

“It’s not necessarily ’cuz there’s anything wrong with him that needs severe or emergency treatment,” Dr. Lopez explained. “We dunno anything about the circumstances of his Birth, so it’s a precautionary measure.”

“He was quite literally born in a Cave,” the bassist supplied as they followed her.

“Lyrica was essentially homeless unless she was with me,” Richie sighed. “She was running from a few things back where she’s from and couldn’t catch a break, so she settled in a remote Cave on Santa Catalina Island.”

“Then that gives us all the more reason to put your son in the NICU right off the bat, even if he _doesn’t_ have anything like a congenital heart defect,” the OB/GYN told him. “Such an environment’s far from sterile, not to mention far chillier–even if women’ve been delivering in such settings for Centuries and Millennia, it could lead to infections and hypothermia.”

“Trust me, we’re both fathers already,” Bobby chuckled. “We already know the importance of clean, warm surroundings unless there’s just no other choices–not that we _had_ any this Time.”

She simply cocked a brow at him as they walked.

“That boy was already Crowning by the Time we got there,” he explained. “Hell, I’m surprised I kept my shit together enough to help her deliver and bark out orders like I did, which’s prolly the only thing that even remotely saved either of them.”

Nodding her Understanding, Dr. Lopez stopped in front of a particular door, which she knocked on as they read the placard on the wall next to it. In the patient slot, _L. Cascade’d_ been written, which told them they were now outside the room the young woman’d been put in. Moments later, the doctor reappeared and waved them in, which got them to push away from where they’d leaned against the wall to follow her.

Propped up by a mound of pillows, Lyrica appeared to be asleep, a cannula shoved up her nose and a hospital gown more or less just draped over her. She was certainly paler than normal, which was no doubt from all the blood she’d lost and was still in the process of having replaced. However, she was quick to crack open her eyes when she heard movement, which proved that she wasn’t asleep or otherwise unconscious. The sleepy smile that crossed her lips drew one from both brunettes as they settled on one side of her bed so she could see them without having to turn her head.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Richie said, careful to keep his volume low. “How’re ya feeling?”

“Tired and sore,” the young woman answered, even her voice sounding a bit weak. “How’s our lil man?”

“Dunno yet,” he told her, gently grabbing her hand. “Dr. Lopez said she’d call the NICU when I asked that same question, myself.”

_“Mmm,”_ Lyrica hummed, nodding. “At least she’s trying to find out for us.”

“Seriously,” the virtuoso agreed. “Ya scared at least a decade off my Life today, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, love–damn sure wasn’t trying to do _that,”_ she giggled, tightening her grip on his hand. “But you’re not the only one that happened to.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Bobby spoke up with a chuckle. “I think the rest of us got a good scare, too.”

“I was talking about myself, but yeah–I guess that’s definitely true,” Lyrica retorted weakly.

“Wait, whaddaya mean, ya scared _yourself?”_ Her boyfriend looked confused.

“Never knew I was pregnant, love,” she answered, squirming into a slightly comfier position. “Never got sick, never missed a period–nothing till I couldn’t sleep last Night ’cuz my stomach and back were killing me.”

“Jesus Christ,” the bassist murmured. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of a woman _not_ knowing she’d precious cargo on board.”

Chuckling, the young woman said that–as far as she knew–such a thing was a pretty rare occurrence since there were usually dead giveaways. Looking back on it, such a thing _shouldn’t_ have flown over her head–after all, she’d started craving some pretty weird stuff and felt like she was constantly gassy, but never could get it to pass. What she’d most likely been feeling was their son kicking and squirming, but she hadn’t realized it due to having never been pregnant before. Or rather, having never carried a pregnancy long enough to get that particular experience since she’d been pregnant before, but miscarried pretty early on.

Richie couldn’t help thinking that their son was even more of a miracle than he’d thought him before, if she’d a history of miscarriages. Now, the only thing that was gonna bring both of them any measure of lasting relief’d be to find out how said son was doing. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too much longer for them to get the news they wanted–which, at this point, was really just _any_ news at all.

Before even Bobby could say anything else, there was a knock at the door that made them pause their conversation for the moment. None of them got a chanceta even call out permission to enter before the door opened, revealing someone pushing something in front of her. That something turned out to be one of the transparent isolettes from the hospital nursery, which contained a lil blue bundle. Richie’s eyes widened and absolutely lit up as he took in the sight of that lil bundle, which was squirming almost restlessly in the isolette. He knew without a doubt as he roseta make room for said isolette at his girlfriend’s bedside that this was their newborn son.

The nurse didn’t even get a chanceta pick the boy up and hand him over before he was gently scooping him up with a dexterity that proved he’d done this kinda thing before. He was quick to gently shift him so he was cradled against the study, warm wall of his chest, which made the lil boy coo happily. Even as he moved so he could hand him to his equally anxious mother, he couldn’t help his surprise as he realized the boy’d apparently inherited his blue eyes.

“He’s absolutely handsome, man,” the bassist chuckled as he handed him over. “I’d say he looks like a blue-eyed lil version of Lyrica with your nose.”

“I kinda Wish he’d gotten _her_ nose, too,” he laughed, still careful to keep his volume down.

“Ah, your nose isn’t _that_ bad,” Bobby retorted.

“As long as he didn’t get his daddy’s prowess–which means his Love of drinkin’ and bangin’–I’m happy,” the young woman said, gently repositioning the boy to latch on when he nuzzled her breast.

“I guess that’s true enough,” Richie agreed, a tender smile curving his lips. “At the End of the Day, I’m more concerned with his Health.”

“Well, I’m glad to report that the lil man’s perfectly healthy,” the pediatric nurse who’d brought him in said with a smile. “He’s a big boy, clocking in at twenty-two inches and eight and a-half pounds.”

“Jesus, girl!” the bassist laughed. “How the hell’dja _not_ know ya were carrying _that_ around?”

“Got me,” Lyrica giggled, wincing as the baby suckled a lil _too_ roughly for her liking. “You’d think I’d realize that a lil wiggler’d turned into a whopper of an alien that was taking up residence in my gut for nine months.”

The virtuoso couldn’t help another laugh as even he was forced to admit that she was right, both in how their son’d even Begun _and_ in thinking such a thing shoulda been hard to miss. But now there were a couple things on his mind that’d need discussing, and preferably sooner than later on one part. After all, they needed to name their son, and since they hadn’t known he was on the way, they hadn’t discussed whether they even wanted kids together, let alone what they’d name them.

Giving him a hard look, the young woman made it quite clear they weren’t about to have a Rich Kotzen III, ’cuz if he was thinking that, she’d just as soon leave him. She revealed that her paternal great-grandfather’d been Ike, Sr., one of her pappaw’s brothers having been named after him. After that, her great-uncle’d wound up with a son who shared the same name, and the only way to differentiate between each generation wasta call them _Senior, Junior,_ and _Lil Ike_. She couldn’t stand the sound of that, and she wasn’t about to Curse her own son by having to call him _Lil Rich_ to differentiate between him, his father, and his grandfather.

Richie cocked his head as he thought about it since he didn’t really mind such a thing, having thought it an Honor that his dad wanted to name him after himself. Course, she’d a point in saying that their son was his own person, and therefore deserved his own, unique name. He couldn’t help wondering just what ideas she could possibly have in mind, and just how _out-there_ they’d be, considering how _out-there_ she was, herself.

“I was kinda thinking Triton as a first name,” Lyrica admitted. “Strong enough to denote the inner vitality he’d no doubt inherit from one or both of us, but not quite as strong and weird as Neptune.”

_“Mmm,”_ the virtuoso hummed.

“But, like Neptune, the name Triton ties back to the Sea–which he was basically born next to,” she continued. “In Mythology, Triton was the son of the Sea God Poseidon, whose Roman counterpart was Neptune. Not only that, but he was the Messenger of the Sea, kinda like Ravens’re considered to be Messengers of the Gods, at large.”

“Well, we can’t say a name like that doesn’t have a solid foundation in the reason it was chosen,” Bobby chuckled, his former band mate still looking thoughtful.

“Also has a better ring to it than Neptune Kotzen,” the young woman chuckled.

“Eh, can’t say I disagree there,” Richie finally said with a chuckle of his own. “What about a middle name, though?”

“Well, this is the part that’s gonna get kinda complicated,” his girlfriend sighed. “’Cuz I’ve a couple different reasons for picking the middle name I’ve in mind.”

“Then lay it on us, girl,” the bassist told her. “’Cuz I’m sure it can’t be _that_ complicated.”

“In a way, I kinda wanna name him after my pappaw–but I also wanna name him after another man that’s _not_ his daddy,” Lyrica explained. “My pappaw was like _my_ daddy growing up, and if there’s anyone outta my family I’ve missed more than anyone since I left North Carolina, it’s him.”

“Can’t say that’s a bad thing, hon,” he told her, gently squeezing her knee through the blankets covering it.

“So, how would we End up naming our lil man after your grampa _and_ some other man?” the virtuoso asked curiously.

“’Cuz that other man happensta share a given name with my pappaw,” she answered.

Both brunettes cocked a brow curiously.

“I say Robert for a middle name, after both my pappaw and the man that helped bring him into this World,” the young woman said, looking up at the older of the pair.

Bobby’s jaw dropped in surprise when she said that, if only ’cuz he hadn’t been expecting such a thing by even half a country mile. She’d a point in saying that he’d helped bring the boy into this World–he’d been the one settled in the place that an OB/GYN woulda been, had she been in a hospital, after all. However, once he’d gotten the boy to his daddy’s car, and later into the first hospital, he’d considered his part done and over with. The last thing he’d expected was for either of the boy’s parentsta wanna name him after him, regardless of the reason why.

Richie wasn’t the slightest bit surprised, if only ’cuz he knew how his girlfriend was when she felt like showing it. For something as significant as having helped her manage a safe delivery, there was no doubt she’d have wanted to Honor the other man she was closest to. If that meant using said man’s given name as their son’s middle name, he was all for it since he’d been considering such a thing, himself.

After thinking about it for a few moments, the bassist finally smiled as he nodded, more than agreeable to the new parents doing such a thing, if they really wanted to. He’d never felt as Honored and humble as he did right now, and that feeling only grew when Lyrica shifted enough to essentially hold the boy out to him. That was all it took to make his daddy take him, then turn to settle him in his arms, the same first pair of armsta hold him immediately after his Birth. Big, blue eyes looked up at him almost curiously before clamping tightly shut as his lil mouth opened wide in a big yawn. Bobby couldn’t help a smile as he cradled the tiny body that snuggled against him, clearly seeking warmth as he settled down for a nap.

Now that their son’d been named since they’d apparently settled on Triton Robert Kotzen, the virtuoso turned his attention back to his girlfriend. As he helped her up for a potty break once most of the crap she’d been hooked up to was disconnected from her, he couldn’t help counting his Blessings. In not knowing that she was even pregnant, he coulda very well lost her in addition to the son they hadn’t even known was on the way. But since both were deemed healthy, he knew the real work wasta Begin once they were both discharged soon.

Looking back on even this long, stressful Day, nothing meant more to him than the continued Health, Happiness, and safety of his young family, considering all these twists of Fate.


End file.
